


Shadows

by GloriaKStone



Series: Descent [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (somewhat), Angst, Canonical Character Death, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Multi, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 64,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaKStone/pseuds/GloriaKStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The former students of Hogwarts believe that the threat posed in their childhood won't reach their children. However, when a black market for illegal and dangerous potions open up, they find their children's lives as well as theirs are in peril once more. With the possible threat of exposure and their own personal struggles, survival not only becomes a physical journey, but a mental one as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner is Marvelous

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: In the event that J.K. Rowling reads what I've done to her character and puts a price on my head, I wish my gravestone to read "I regret nothing".**
> 
>  
> 
> Well, this isn't my first Harry Potter story, but it is one of the first I choose to share with the public. It's a three part novella series, one part that I'm editing as I post and the other parts planned but not written yet. Not Beta'd, although I did try to edit it as best as I could.

Pansy was not in a very great mood.

The house elves were beginning uncooperative with dinner, all but three of the guests had cancelled, and her hair wasn’t acting right. No matter how she tried to fix it with her wand or a new potion, it’d return to its frizzy state. She groaned in frustration. Her son waltzed into the room wearing—ugh—Muggle clothing. It was embarrassing. She’d thought about burning those clothes. It was that silly Ravenclaw girl he was dating. It didn’t matter either way. She hadn’t married for love and she’d considered forcing an arranged one if she didn’t approve of his choice. However, she’d like him to not embarrass her by dressing like a Muggle pauper.

She glared at her husband, Henry Buxton, as the most horrendous sounds escaped from his bloated throat. He sat at his table oblivious to everything and drinking himself into a stupor. It was a humiliation being married to an absolutely despicable man. After a while, she realized her personality over the years was polarizing of anything pleasurable. It wasn’t too out of pocket that she would end up with Henry for a husband.

Nevertheless, she didn’t know what had possessed her to marry Henry seventeen years prior. She’d been so completely drunk that she’d only remembered the aftermath: waking up to a fat slob who was suffering from early on-set baldness. He just so happened to be pureblood and rich. She’d never met him before and had planned on annulling, but her parents had been pleasantly surprised. To make matters worse, she was pregnant with Jeremy. No turning back then. So it stuck and they were miserably married to that day.

She looked back at her son. He was the bright silver lining around the cloud. She was amazed that she’d turned out to be handsome and virtually nothing like Henry. She could have done without his obsession with ratty—or what he referred to as vintage—Muggle t-shirts and jean trousers; along with that terrible music he listened to. His father either ignored it or had gone past the point of caring to notice it. Because he was her son and he did well in school, she tolerated it. “Take it off.”  


He smirked. “Right here at the dinner table, mum?”

“Go to your room. Put on your robes. And come back down,” she snapped with a sneer. He gave her a nasty look and got up from the table, trudging up the stairs. She pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the pops that sounded nearby. Please don’t let it be Draco and Astoria, oh please don’t—

“Draco! Astoria! And Scorpius, looking as handsome as ever,” she said in a delightful tone, greeting her old friends with a grin plastered on her face. They weren’t supposed to be there that early. She had to assume that Astoria had convinced her husband that it would be amusing. Arseholes all of them, she thought as she ignored their entertained expressions.

“Are we early?”

“Why does that matter? You’re my most anticipated guests,” she lied, motioning them towards the table.

“The dinner looks nice.” She shared a look with her husband that she assumed Pansy wouldn’t notice. She absolutely hated them and their looks.

“Henry, nice to see you,” Draco offered politely. He grunted, raising his glass. Sometimes, Henry decided to be a man of not many words. More like a crudely built human robot with a vocabulary of twenty words. She could tell that Draco wanted to roll his eyes. He’d have to deal with the company of children and two women. This factor almost pleased her. Someone had to suffer along with her.

“Hungry, love.” Merlin, was already slurring! And he was drooling as he slurred to Pansy, he leaning forward to kiss her on the mouth. She held back her feelings of nausea as she gave him a chaste peck and smiled pleasantly at her guests.

“Not too many people here? They’d be idiots—,” The comment was cut off at the cue of a peculiar sound coming from the table. It had been either his father or mother. Jeremy came back down stairs with a sullen look on his face, glaring at his mother before offering a pleasant smile to the Malfoys.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Scorpius. It’s nice to have you at dinner.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes and looked as if he were going to say something smart. However, his father gave him a pointed glare as he drank wine. She’d known for a while they didn’t run in the same circles. As far she knew, it had absolutely nothing to do with his taste in Muggle culture. She hoped he was wise enough not to let it be known outside of home.

Jeremy was just sweeter. She wondered if it had been the mixture of her husband’s lackluster attitude and her extremely cruel disposition that created his personality. Her husband preferred to work and to manage his money rather than spend time with his son. Pansy hadn’t really known how to teach him how to be a man.

She’d feared Jeremy becoming a Gryffindor. After trying to turn over Potter, it would have been ultimate humiliation. She’d heard once that a student could ask the Sorting Hat what house they’d wanted to be in and prayed the Jeremy would use that to his advantage. She’d had an argument with Henry about the possibility. They hardly talked about anything without arguing or trading insults. He was furious at the prospect of Jeremy becoming a Gryffindor.

“It’s your fucking fault!”

“My fault?! You’ve never been man enough to be a man for him! He needed a father and your own father—"

He lifted his hand to hit her. “DON’T YOU MENTION HIM! DON’T YOU EVER, EVER MENTION HIM!”

She glared at him, stepping closer. “If you hit me, dear, the placement of your hand will go from your wrist to a place that never sees the light of day,” she said in a sickeningly sweet tone. He lowered it reluctantly before storming off. She believed he hated his son. His son was everything he wasn’t; handsome, smart, and logical. She found out from her mother-in-law that his father hadn’t been there for him either. Henry had repeated his own father’s steps. She asked if he’d gotten his personality from him as well. She gave Pansy such a look that she’d never ask the question again.

Jeremy had heard the argument. He always feared disappointing his father. So when she received the owl that he been placed in Slytherin, the relief had been great. It made her feel guilty for a while, especially when he’d come back home from his second year dejected. He wouldn’t tell her until they snuck into the kitchens for their talks over bowls of ice cream.

“Scorpius hates me mum. It’s completely over for me in the Slytherin house,” he said sullenly, staring down at his empty bowl.

“Dear, he’s his father’s son. They’re both just very unpleasant.”

“I tried really hard. I forced myself to laugh at him making fun of muggleborns. Mum, he tried to curse a girl with her back turned. I hit him with a curse without thinking about it. Now I’ve got the whole Slytherin house against me. Was I wrong mum?”

She had gulped. Why couldn’t he have been like her or even Henry? He couldn’t have gotten this way from them. So how did it happen? She stroked his hair and only smiled at him. “No. Have some chocolate ice cream this time around. Always make me feel better.”

She learned to be compliant with his personality that had grown without her say so. He was an outcast. He didn’t participate in bullying. Just did his work and stayed alone. She’d secretly hoped that Slytherin girls would see the potential in her son, but doubted it. From what she’d hear from Astoria when they had tea time, the girls were smitten with Scorpius. Of course they were. She kept her bitter feelings to herself as Astoria smiled proudly about her popular irresistible son. To Pansy, he could never live up to her Jeremy.

“Jeremy, you look quite handsome in those robes. Are they new?”

“Yes, maam, they are.”

Scorpius muttered something under his breath before grabbing his own glass of wine and downing it. “Congratulations on beating Weasley in OWLs,” Draco said with an amused grin. “I would have loved to see the look that must have been on her face.”  
He shrugged while remaining nonchalant about his accomplishment. How she wished he was a little bit more cockier. “She wasn’t happy."

“She needed to be knocked down a peg. Bitch thinks she’s better than me.”

“You've forgotten where you are. I'd advise you to watch the way you speak."

"Sorry, sir."

Perhaps if you had worked more on your vocabulary in school rather than for colorful words, you’d have done as well as Jeremy.”

Scorpius turned pink. The dinner came out and Pansy’s mood had been lifted. “I did well!”

“You were surpassed by Rose Weasley.”

Astoria smiled. “Draco, weren’t you suffering the same with her mother?”

“I’m trying to encourage him to break the cycle,” he muttered grumpily, shoving lettuce in his mouth. Pansy smirked at her son, who gave her a wink and ate quietly. She heard another pop and grimaced at who she saw. What was Blaise doing there?! She hadn’t invited him. She plastered on a smile. At least he’d been alone. She wouldn’t have been able to stand anymore ditzy bimbos. Draco raised an eyebrow, looking between her and Blaise, but stood up from the table to greet him.

“Good to see you, Zabini!”

“Likewise. Astoria, Scorpius. Pansy!”

“Blaise Zabini. I hadn’t expected you…at all,” she said through her teeth. He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I wanted to see you,” he whispered quickly in her ear. She looked back at her husband, who fortunately was more enthralled with the ridges on his glass than her interaction with him. Jeremy wasn’t amused. The pleasant expression on his face turned sour and she was ashamed of herself. She took a deep breath and sat next to her husband while Blaise sat across from Draco.

“Henry, it’s nice to see you. You and your family have put together a lovely dinner.”

“It’s okay. House elves are acting uncooperative today. That mudblood Weasley was pushing for that law to be passed. Don’t show respect now. Probably doesn’t get her horn tooted enough by her husband.”

Both Pansy and Jeremy stared at the head of house in horror as everyone else—well mostly everyone else—kept politely silent. Scorpius chose to laugh out loud.

“Stop it, Scorpius,” Draco said slowly. His son cut himself off, looking down at his plate grumpily.

Blaise gave Pansy an amused expression. She’d wanted to die right there. The night had started to make a better turn. How she despised Henry; how’d he talk so freely about their home problems to anyone who’d listen. He’d made her a laughing stock.

“I’ve sent several proposals into the Ministry. None of them were looked at,” Astoria said with a sad sigh. “I’m really unhappy with the schooling at Hogwarts. Not that there are any threats anymore, but I feel our children need to be able to protect themselves.”

“We’ll keep pushing. I’m actually meeting with Potter tomorrow so maybe—“

“You’re meeting with him? You never told me that.”

“I just did,” Draco said with a chuckle. “Why, is that a problem?”

“No,” she replied quickly. “You just never mentioned it.”

She studied Astoria. Blaise had told her she’d been one of the students that returned to Hogwarts to help Slughorn in the battle. She’d noticed since school how she always fought so hard to be unlike Daphne in any way she could. Daphne had joined her gang and Astoria had decided she didn’t want to be part of it. Daphne did well in school and Astoria may have purposely slacked off just so that she wouldn’t be in line with her sister. She saw her as another one of those women that just barely made it as a Slytherin. She didn’t dislike her, but she didn’t particularly care for her.

Why did it matter that Draco was meeting with Harry Potter? She had no problems with him. She’d helped him. _Color me fascinated _, as she managed to give a rare, genuine smile.__

“I’m not particularly happy with having to almost have to grovel to bloody Harry Potter of all people, but it’s important. This potions' trade issue really has us in a bind. Don’t forget to make it on time, Zabini.”

“Just have a meeting to attend with a distributor in the States, but I should be there early.”

“What’s the problem with the potions' trade,” Henry asked, his eyebrows perking with interest.

“Some dangerous illegal potions are being sold through a growing black market. Guess who the two prime suspects are?”

“Potter must have it out for you.”

“Hmph.” Draco rolled his eyes and stabbed at the steak on his plate. Thinking of Potter? After so many years, it seemed nothing would heal the bitterness between them.

“I don’t know. I’d suspect us,” Blaise said with a smirk, staring at Pansy. “We’re not necessarily honorable people.”

Jeremy pushed his plate forward, putting his napkin on top of it. “May I be excused?”

Pansy tried to swallow the piece of meat in her mouth in an attempt to keep back the tears that were forming. Blaise was such a cruel bastard. “Yes, you may.”

“It was nice seeing you again. See you on the train Scorpius,” he murmured as he stalked out of the dining room. At least Blaise had the decency to look a bit regretful for his wording. Scorpius, of course, was delighted by Jeremy’s departure. To add insult to injury, she caught a glimpse of her hair in the glass and on time, the frizz had returned. He lifted his glass.

“Very lovely dinner, Mrs. Buxton.”

If only there were a time and proper place to slap the shit out of him.

  
  
  
  


Maybe it had been when she was heartbroken about the announcement of Draco’s marriage to Astoria. Perhaps it had been when she realized what a disconnected bastard she had as a husband; when he refused to attend Jeremy’s first birthday party because there’d been some important meeting with a wizard from Japan (new ingredients for wand creation). It could have even been the rumors of women he’d run around with on business trips. However, whenever her obsessive lust and eventually addictive love for Blaise had started, it had been the turning point for how she lived her life.

She’d seen him groping up some random witch when she and Henry had attended a social function for former Slytherins. Pansy had still been peeved about Jeremy’s first birthday. Henry was flirting shamelessly and she was glad to be rid of him. She had come across Blaise and the woman accidentally. She should have turned away, but she couldn’t help herself. Watching them, she felt sick with envy. No one could see Blaise and his companion in the shadows, but she could. Their eyes met as he kissed his companion on the neck and he gave her a wicked grin that made her knees buckle. The girl had rebuffed him after a while and he disappeared. After wandering the party aimlessly, she found him smoking outside on a balcony by himself.

“Where’s the bird?”

He shrugged, staring at her curiously. “She was a tease. It happens. Can’t strike all the time, right?”

“You know it looks really bad on your part, Zabini. Not seriously looking for a wife.”

He looked at her in disgust and—did she notice hurt? “Don’t need a wife, Parkinson.”

“Buxton.”

He laughed bitterly, putting out his cigarette. “Right. Buxton.”

“I thought your mother was adamant about you getting a wife.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m in an everlasting rebellious stage where I don’t give a damn what ‘mummy’ wants of me. She doesn’t have control of my estate anymore. I can do what I want.”

“I thought you adored the ground your mother walked on.”

He snorted. “What’s with the inquisition, Parkinson? Never took this much of an interest in getting to know me that well in school or outside of it when it actually mattered.”

“We knew each other well in school.”

“Barely. When we did hang out, it was either to talk about how wonderful Draco was or accusing me of having a thing for Ginny Weasley.”

“You did have a thing for the ‘filthy blood traitor’. It was so obvious. You were so offended by being caught! I thought you were going to jump out the window.”

He shrugged and stared at his feet. “Alright, so I had a thing for redheads. Sue me.”

“What happened to maintaining purity?”

“I’m getting shagged quite well. I stopped caring. I asked you a question. What’s with the curiosity now? Why not a year ago; when it would have meant something?”

A year ago? What was that about? “I’m bored. That’s all,” she answered, feeling confused before going back into the mansion. He followed her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close to him. She gasped in surprise as he whispered in her ear.

“Maybe it’s because you want me to fuck you.”

“What are you doing, Zabini?!”

He chuckled deep and low, his hands grabbing the hem of her dress and slowly bunching it up. “Tell me to stop.”

She inhaled sharply. “But my husband—“

“You don’t care about your husband, Pansy.”

She felt cool air hit her exposed panties and the bunched up at her abdomen. They weren’t too far from guests. The shadows didn’t matter. With the right angle or touch of the light, someone could see. Her eyes widened as she could see her husband had unfortunately cornered Theodore Nott in an attempt to get the harder to reach magical items and ingredients. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything but her own breathing.

He slipped his hand in her panties, lazily exploring her with his fingers. She silently cried, struggling to not moan loudly while her husband was only a couple of feet away. He pulled away, pushing her against the wall and finding her wetness again.

“Tell me you want me.”

She stared at him in confusion, tears still streaming. “I want you,” she whispered. Smiling triumphantly, he’d taken her right there in the shadows. They'd been far gone then; no one near the balcony or the adjoining room they occupied. Their kisses were heated, sloppy, and unfocused. But it was wonderful to feel some sort of passion as he was inside her, nearly ramming against the wall. He had her then.

Years later, he’d still have her. He’d have her even after they’d gotten caught by Jeremy when he was fourteen. How foolish she’d felt not being able to resist him in the family library. She’d been on her knees, all of him in her mouth when her son walked, dropping the books in his hand.

She truly believed her son would hate her forever after that day. It took him a year to be as he had been with her. Whenever Blaise decided to show up to a social function, a dark look would come over his face that scared her. One day he would confront Blaise. She knew it. And that would be the day she’d have to choose between her lover and her son.

He was waiting for her after dinner had ended and after she helped her husband up the stairs. Did he know? Did she even care if he knew? Not really, she thought with a frown as he plopped down on the bed. No prenuptial agreement with an unplanned marriage. Why hadn’t she left his sorry arse yet? She sighed deeply as she noticed the picture of her smiling son on her vanity. Only for Jeremy.

She found him outside on the porch and smoking something that didn't look quite like a normal cigarette. She glared at him.

“How dare you—“

“I didn’t mean to upset your son.”

“I told you not to come here anymore! I told you to stop or Henry would suspect something!”

“If he doesn’t know already.” He gave her a humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Stop this charade. Leave him already!”

“No!”

“Why not!?” He paused, glancing around and lowering his voice. “I know you worry about your son and what he will think. What others will think. But you can’t do this to me anymore. I love you. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. Don’t tell you don’t, because you know you bloody well do.”

“It’s not right!”

“Oh right, your reputation,” he muttered. She stared at him in the moonlight as he continued to smoke and look out into the forest. She was beginning to form crow’s feet despite her best efforts. She struggled to not gain weight. Yet there he stood, aging beautifully and looking irresistible.

“I can’t do what you ask of me.”

“Then it’s not going to work anymore.”

She thought her heart was going to stop right then. What was worse? Was it the fact that she didn’t get to choose to end it? Or the fact that he was going to finally discover that she was nowhere near what he deserved? When he had been younger, he hadn’t care about commitment. It had changed as he got older. He wanted more from her; more she wasn’t sure she could give.

“No—“

“Pansy, are you going to keep this up with me? You’re unhappy with that disgusting fat slob in there. Sometimes I think it’s because of my skin color—“

“Don’t you dare accuse me of something like that, Blaise! It has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with that! How could you be so selfish?! I have a child to think about!”

He nodded, putting out whatever it was and putting it in his robe pocket. “Alright. I’ll be going.”

He brought out his wand and she grabbed it from him. They struggled for a bit while she hugged it to her body. “No, not like this,” she whimpered, turning away from him.

“Give it to me, NOW,” he snapped angrily, prying her hands open. He finally managed to snatch the wand from her and she pulled away from him, tripping and falling on her knees. He went to touch her but she flinched away, staring at the floor beneath her.

“Every time I think about him touching you, I get sick to my stomach. Every time I have to stay in the bloody shadows with you, I have to swallow my pride. I’m the big dark secret you keep that everyone knows about. You say you’re a laughing stock? Well, take a good look, Pansy. You’ve made me into one as well. It’s over.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I mean it this time. Don’t owl me again. Please,” he said with a sigh. There was a pop. A great silence followed. She stayed there for hours staring at the wood; staring at the swirling patterns for comfort and answers. Then she stood up and turned to see Jeremy at the door, staring at her blankly. He didn’t say anything to her when she met his eyes. He broke the gaze and went inside, shutting the door behind him.

With a ghost of smile, she thought about how much worse the dinner could have gone.


	2. There's Something About Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Blaise have a meeting with Harry Potter that predictably ends unpleasantly.

Draco didn’t kiss anyone’s arse. Not even the one of the man he supposedly owed a life debt to. The meeting was to do a favor for Astoria and ensure the future of his business. And while it had tempted Draco many times to deal the more ambitious potions, he wasn’t stupid enough to do so while the Ministry remained consistently on his back. Only Potter and his merry band of former Gryffindor morons suspected him to be that idiotic.

He’d never imagined going into business with Blaise. They were acquaintances; having run in the same social circles due to their purity. Their mothers had played Snaps together every once in a while and that was that. His first choice of a business partner had been Theodore Nott, but the nasty business with his father made it a risky venture. Blaise had been the one to proposition him with the idea of specializing in vanity products. He’d been skeptical at first considering Blaise’s lifestyle of whoring about and being nothing but a joke of a pureblood. However, the climate after the war wasn’t in his favor and his father had been putting pressure on him to rebuild the Malfoy name.

So, he had rolled up his sleeves and spent three years traveling with his wife, their son, and Blaise while they tried to help their reputation in other countries. To his astonishment, it had worked. Their vanity potions became popular in the States, eventually spreading to the UK and like wildfire to other places. People were more narcissistic than he expected. He’d thought it insane when Blaise had suggested branching out into muggle beauty products. However, it had also proved to be very fruitful—worked well with the combination of muggle technology and some of the safer wizarding ingredients that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Money was money after all. His father had been proud. His mother was satisfied that he would be able to finally take care of himself.

Over a decade later, the dangerous illegal potions’ trade was putting their business in danger. They were in danger of being audited. There was nothing to be found, but many of their clients wouldn’t be pleased to know that the Ministry knew personal details about them. They were on the verge of being ruined. He’d be damned if he’d leave an empire that was in shambles to his son.

Blaise didn’t have anything to lose. No responsibilities, no wife, no heir—nothing to leave behind. He believed it was much more important to him. And while Blaise and he had eventually become best friends, he still knew that Blaise was selfish. He only hoped that he’d be thoughtful with the meeting and make no mentions of anything offensive. He had to fight hard enough on his own.

Blaise entered the Ministry lobby and he was early to his surprise. The Muggle suit he was wearing was impressive. It was something he had to eventually get used to stocking up his own wardrobe with. Considering the people they were dealing with, some things had to be comprised. He’d call him vain, but they shared that in common. _Hypocrisy was not attractive_ , he thought with amusement as he fixed his tie in the nearby reflection.

“Morning, Malfoy.”

“Morning, Zabini.”

“Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely not.”

He expected him to give him that confident, yet enraging smirk he’d have plastered on his face whenever they were faced with a challenging business prospect. Though telling by his demeanor, something had happened between him and Pansy or Blaise thought it wasn’t going to go well. Perhaps even both.

He’d warned him about the affair. When he sensed something was amidst between him and Pansy the day after he’d set his son off to Hogwarts, he was told to mind his business. It would be confirmed almost three years later by a spooked Blaise.

“Alright, so let’s say your suspicions were right.”

He sat in his drawing room, looking over invoices and barely acknowledging his presence. He had knew something was up.  “Okay.”

“Something bad happened.”

“Pansy’s vagina finally showed its teeth?”

Blaise was far too nervous and frustrated at that point to respond to the barb. Instead, his response was only a deep breath and an odd tone that sharply contrasted from his usual cold stance. “Her son caught her giving me head.”

Draco found himself choking on air, his attention drawn from his work. “Hell!”

“I know!”

“What’d her son do?!”

“He just walked out the room.”

“Did she continue afterwards?!”

He glared at him furiously. “This is serious!”

“Just end it! End it right now!”

“I don’t know if I can at this point.”

“Don’t tell me you were stupid enough to fall for a married woman, Blaise.”

The look on his face said it all. His first thought was what kind of idiot would fall for a married woman. His second was if it had to be a married woman, why in the hell did it have to be Pansy Parkinson—or Pansy Buxton more appropriately? His third thought was Henry Buxton would ruin them both if he found out his wife was banging a well-known playboy. And surprisingly, his last was pity for Blaise. He shouldn’t have felt sorry for him. He was married and if his own wife was having an affair, he was positive he’d chop both her and her lover into pieces.

He’d known for a fact that Blaise had held a torch for Pansy for long time. It was something he couldn’t understand. He’d fancied Pansy for a couple of months before realizing she was even more of a horrible human being than he was. Even then, she had only been moderately attractive. Blaise was the opposite. Draco wasn’t too proud to admit Blaise was handsome. And he was rich. He could have any woman he wanted, yet would always want the one woman that Draco personally felt wasn’t worth it. Pansy would never be Blaise’s. 

“I always knew you were kind of dumb, Zabini, but I never considered you for blind and dumb.”

“I never said I was smart, Malfoy.”

“Why her? Why her of all people?”

“Well, she’s a really good fuck for one.”

He rubbed his temper, shaking his head in disgust. “Not surprised that was your first answer.”

“I guess I hadn’t even really thought why I am putting myself through all of this,” he muttered, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk.

“Blaise, listen to me. End it. End it before things spiral even more out of control. It’s going to get worse. She’s going to push you more into the dark and then keep using you until there’s nothing left. And think of her son. He’s going to choose his father’s side. If Pansy won’t think about her son’s feelings in all of this, you should.”

“I’m responsible for no one’s feelings but my own.”

“Yes and being a selfish bastard is all good and well until it comes back to haunt you,” Draco replied grimly. Blaise didn’t reply. Instead he got up from the chair and walked out of the drawing room with no communication until the following week. He wouldn’t bring it up again. He thought about approaching Pansy, but he felt like she was still bitter that she hadn’t been the one he chose. Bringing up an extramarital affair would probably prove to be even more awkward than it had been with Blaise.

They climbed into the elevator and Blaise continued to stare blankly ahead without another word. “Auror Department,” Draco said nervously, looking at Blaise sideways every once in a while until Blaise’s voice nearly made him jump.

“What is it?”

“You ended it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What was the worst of it?”

Blaise frowned. “You’re going to laugh.”

“It’s not a funny matter. I’m sure I won’t.”

He muttered something, almost sounded like “flack.” Draco furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I accused her of denying me because I’m black.”

He didn’t know if it was the situation or Blaise’s expression of humiliation that made him lose it. He felt the laugh rise and tried to stop it, but his attempts proved futile. A loud, hysterical guffaw spilled from his mouth as his friend narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t!”

“Shut up!”

He laughed harder. He had to hold his stomach. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

“I hate you so much.”

“Did you say afterwards that you shall overcome and raise your fist in a salute?!” He managed to breathe it out but barely; his face more than likely turning pink.

“Bastard.” His amusement was obviously contagious as Blaise bit back a grin. “You look like an idiot—don’t touch me!”

He stood up straight, wiping the tears from his eyes. If only he cared enough to feel horrible for making fun of someone’s tragedy. He kept a smile on his face. “That was terrible of me.”

“I’m glad you find my misery amusing, you prejudice sonovabitch.”

“Bloody hypocrite!”

Blaise rolled his eyes as he played with the cuffs of his jacket. “Yes, well more so you.”

“I warned you,” he replied with a shrug, fixing his tie as the doors opened.

Blaise took a deep breath as the stepped into the office. All eyes were on them as they strolled past the numerous crowded cubicles. It was either because they were hated or because they were gorgeous. By the looks of the faces in those cubicles, their opinions didn’t matter.  “You did. I deserve it.”

They paused in front of Harry Potter’s office, looking at each with a certain unsure expression that made Draco want to turn tail and run. Blaise ended up knocking the door.

“Come in.”

His office was nicer than he’d expected. Thankfully, there were no Gryffindor colors. There was an impressive library aligned on both walls and a large desk that stood in front of windows that overlooked Muggle London. Draco’s office wasn’t even that nice. He wasn’t allowed to perform charms to create these views. There were new restrictions put in place with all the new supposed activity from wizards and witches that had hard-ons for Voldemort’s philosophy.  He had hoped it was just overreaction on the Ministry’s part.

Potter was working on gargantuan stacks of rolled up parchments as they came in and didn’t bother to look up at all. He felt like saying something about his rudeness, but it was best not to agitate him when he was well aware his job was particularly hectic those days.  Either way he was rooted to the spot. He hated it. He considered it lowering himself. He was lowering himself to Potter; groveling just to keep himself afloat. It was the ultimate humiliation. Blaise pushed him forward and he nearly tripped.

They sat before him awkwardly. He finally looked up, giving them a tight grin. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you in the lobby. I’ve been quite busy lately.”

“We know. Sorry to hear that,” Blaise replied.

“I trust your family is doing well, Mr. Malfoy.”

“They’re fine. Scorpius is growing into a fine young man.”

Harry glanced back down at the parchment and for some odd reason smirked. He struggled with not clenching his fists. “Yes he is. And how is your wife?”

“She’s good. She’s trying to push some proposals to the education department.”

“Oh, I know. I mean, I came across them. Pushed them through this morning.” Well, Astoria would be happy about that. It figured Potter, who had addressed the same thing many of times, would have vested interest in it. Nevertheless, there was something in his irritating pleasant expression that bothered him. He pushed it aside.

“That’s great. She should be happy.”

“I’m sure. So, about this illegal trade going on—”

“We know you think we have something to do with. And we don’t. It wouldn’t benefit us in anyway.”

“We want to ensure the safety of the wizarding world and only provide the best beauty products we can to satisfy our customers. They are very loyal customers; outstanding citizens of the wizarding world. “

“As you imagine, most customers wouldn’t like their personal business being poked in—if you get the gist.”

“From what we’ve seen so far, you look like a legal business. However, it’s always possible that at least one of you could be part of something this far under. It has also occurred to me that you could possibly be using your books with your legal business to hide the activities of an illegal one. But we’ve been tracking you under the radar for a while. I don’t see an audit in the near future.”

“I don’t think we gave the Ministry authorization to track our books, Mr. Potter.” As calm as he could be, he was inwardly seething; unclenching and clenching one fist while the opposite tapped the arm of the chair sporadically. Blaise was eying him nervously.

“We don’t have to. We’re automatically authorized. I didn’t suggest it...although I’m sure you suspect it.”

“Oh.” It was annoying him that Blaise was being overtly pleasant. It didn’t matter that he’d warned him to be on his best behavior. He knew very well that he had to secretly want to wring someone’s neck for the information they’d just found out. Or at least he did—the meeting had to end sooner or he was going to explode.  “We understand. We were just surprised. Good to know.”

“What do we have to do to ensure our dedication to gaining the Ministry’s trust?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, for starters, you could suspend distribution out of the continent so that we can compare activity.”

“For how long?”

“Six months.”

He let out an incredulous laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to assume that you don’t know how businesses work, Potter. Otherwise, you wouldn’t suggest something so preposterously idiotic—“

“Draco,” Blaise said through his teeth, a fake smile on his face.

“Are you mad?! You do know that most of our profit comes from out of the continent, right? Or do you not care?!”

“Calm down, Malfoy—“

“Are you setting out to ruin us?! In six months, we could lose hundreds of thousands—hell millions—of customers to other competitors!”

“That’s not my problem! This is serious, Malfoy! There are people dying due to this trade! Our children are at risk!”

“Six months is a ridiculous amount of time! You could track it in one month!”

“And one of you could easily suspend the black market trade in that amount of time as well.”

“Mr. Potter, neither one of us is responsible for this trade—I can’t believe you would think we would be so goddamn moronic to do something like this! If can just give us Veritaserum, you’ll see that we’re telling the truth! Anything but what you’re asking! We’d have to start over! Please don’t ask me to do this!”

“Veritaserum can be easily countered—you should know better than to suggest that. Look, if you don’t, not only will we suspend it anyway, we’ll seize your assets.”

Blaise cursed under his breath as Draco stood up from his seat. “You go ahead and try it, Potter! I should have known this meeting would be useless.”

“Draco—“

“Don’t even try it, Potter! This is all I have aside from my family! And here comes the bloody Ministry planning to take it away!  I won’t allow it!”

“I’m not pushing for this. When Kingsley died, the new Minister pushed through a lot of new rules. Many of us are unhappy with most of the changes. However, for peace, we have to try to abide by it.”

“You can’t think of anything else we can do?” Blaise was still calm with his question, but looked as nauseous as he felt. Harry leaned back in his chair and stared at his desk in thought for what felt like too long. He sat back down, putting his head in his hands. He knew that it was going to ruin him. Clients could understand one month or even two months. Six months would deteriorate business relationships rapidly and trust would be lost. What an absolute catastrophe.

“The Ministry has also been looking at Henry Buxton. It seems he’s taken interest in ingredients that are connected to some deadly potions.”

“I’m not very acquainted with the man, Potter. We aren’t friends. I don’t even like him,” Draco muttered into his hands.

“No, but Blaise is well acquainted with his wife from what I hear.”

He looked at Blaise, who hung his head and started to laugh. “Oh that’s just—perfect.”

“I have a reliable source.”

“Are you suggesting that I shag information out of Buxton’s wife, Potter,” Blaise asked coolly, raising his head and glaring at him.

“Henry Buxton is the more likely suspect. He can hide the trade better than you two could and he has contacts with questionable characters. The Ministry wants me to focus on you two. However, if I can get proof that he’s the one that we should be looking at, they’ll leave you alone.”

He had way more to lose than Blaise. He stared at him as he bit his lip and sighed deeply. “How long do we have?”

“You have two months before they push me. Then I have to make the move to suspend trades involving your company.”

“You have to promise me that if he is behind it, that no harm will come to Pansy or her son. Even if for some reason she is involved in it.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, glancing at Draco who only sneered in response before he gave a slight nod. “Of course.”

“Fine,” Blaise replied, standing up and offering his hand to him. Draco couldn’t believe it. He froze, looking at Blaise in disbelief. Harry shook it firmly and then offered his hand to Draco. He scowled at it and turned heel before stalking out of the office. There was always something with Potter. He was the living embodiment of Murphy’s Law for him. He’d pop up like a weasel at the most impromptu times; whether it was school, his family life, and even his damned business.

He and Blaise didn’t say anything to each other as they climbed into the elevator. He just stewed at the fear of losing everything while Blaise more than likely stewed at the fear of losing his sanity. 


	3. Scorpions Appear to Have Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy reflects on how much he hates birthdays and his hatred is confirmed with unfortunate encounters on the train.

 

As Jeremy stepped through Platform 9 ¾ in his best Hogwarts attire with his mother, he only barely acknowledged that she wished him a Happy Birthday. He didn’t have the heart to tell her how much he hated birthdays.

He discovered his first chocolate frog on his ninth birthday and delighted at chasing it up the stairs. There at the stairs he saw his father with a woman wiggling underneath him. Both of them had been naked from the waist down. He caught the frog, turned around, and made his way downstairs. He would never tell his mother.

On his eleventh birthday he had received his letter from Hogwarts and pleaded with both of his parents for books to help with advancement in his studies. His father asked him why he didn’t want a broom or something else fancy. He foolishly admitted he wanted to catch up as fast as possible so that he’d have a great chance of working with Harry Potter as an Auror. It hadn’t made his father happy. It caused an argument that made him decide to avoid the Gryffindor house as much as possible.

On his twelfth birthday, he had barely made it pass the first month when he spotted Scorpius making snide comments about Roxanne Weasley. Her back was turned to him. He lifted his wand to try out a particularly nasty curse when Jeremy, who had quite liked Roxanne at the time, hit him first. He’d fallen face first in the mud. The Gryffindors had laughed at him. When he was asked who did it, fingers were pointed at Jeremy. Later that night, Scorpius had punched him in the face while he lied in bed and proclaimed that he’d make his time at Hogwarts miserable from that day forward.

His thirteenth birthday took place during his grandfather’s funeral. His father hadn’t shown up. It was only his mum, holding him by the shoulders. His grandfather had commented on his death bed on how big and tall he was getting. His grandmother told him that he looked more like Pansy each day. Not his father. Never his father. Nothing like his father. And as he saw the corpse lowered into the grave he knew that his father hated him.

His fourteenth birthday had gone without incident until two days later he found his mother on her knees in front of Blaise Zabini. He’d walked out the room calmly as her mother cried and crawled away from it. Then he’d broke into a run for the bathroom, vomiting up what he could swear was colorful sprinkles and ice cream from two days prior.

He wouldn’t speak to his mother properly until his fifteenth birthday, when his father warned him privately if he didn’t exceed in O.W.L.S he would beat him within an inch of his life. Never told her about his father’s warning. He just smiled at her warmly as they ate chocolate ice cream and talked about potions.

He had deemed it the birthday curse to his girlfriend Lorelei Peters without giving the grimy details. His birthdays were directly linked to unpleasant memories in his life. He had decided he wouldn’t even celebrate his birthday when he was old enough to convince his mother the practice was silly. She was the only one who cared aside from Lorelei, who had given him a handsome quill set decorated in green and silver.

He looked for Lorelei and couldn’t find her on the platform. Instead, he spotted the Potter and Weasley family on the platform. He was observing them with a little jealously. That was a feeling he’d take his grave. His mother would be completely disappointed in him. She took his eying as disdain and clasped his shoulder.

“Absolutely revolting isn’t it?”

“Nauseating." She kissed him on the cheek as he gave a false, forced laugh. 

“I’m going to miss you. As I always do.”

“Mum—” He’d been ready to ask her how she was doing since Zabini had dumped her after asking her to abandon him and his father. Or had he? He wasn’t sure. To him, it was proper to despise him for occupying his mother’s time in such a way. He really didn’t care if he loved his mother when his father was disinterested in everything that was their family. His father was still his father.

“Yes?”

“I love you. I’ll write you when I get to Hogwarts.”

“Love you too."

He glanced around and still couldn’t find Lorelei. Where the hell was she? She told him she’d wait for him on the platform and the train was about to leave. He sighed deeply, waving to his mother as he gave the handler his belongings. He climbed on to the train and managed to find a cabin that he’d keep all to himself if he was lucky. Maybe Lorelei would find him. He waved to his mother, who looked so sad and lost. She plastered on a smile for him, however, waving back.

After a while, he started to doze off and made his way to the washroom. He opened the door and found Lorelei; on her knees in front of Scorpius. Birthday curse at work again, eh, he thought as he glared at both of them. He cleared his throat and she bumped hilariously into the sink counter, making Scorpius hiss in pain.

“I’m sorry. I forgot the part where you’d have Malfoy’s cock down your mouth when we’d meet.”

She came up to him and grabbed his shirt. He shoved her hands away from him. “I’m sorry! It just happened!”

“You being a bitch just happened. You being a slag was just a plus.” He stormed off to his cabin as she cried his name out apologetically. If she knew what was good for her, she’d stay away. Scorpius was laughing hysterically in the background. It only stopped when he closed his cabin door. He heard a knock only a couple of minutes later.

“Bugger off.”

“Okay,” a feminine voice said in surprise, muttering an insult under her breath. He opened the door and immediately felt like an arse as she walked away. He knew Roxanne Weasley’s figure well; perhaps too well for his own good.

“I thought you were someone else. Sorry. Were you looking for something?”

She turned back around. “I was looking for an empty cabin. Family is grating on my nerves.”

“I don’t mind,” he muttered. She smiled hesitantly before making her way back, slipping past him into it. She sat across from him and looked everywhere but him. He held a crush for her until his fifth year when Lorelei showed interest in him. She’d been dating Anthony Thomas and he’d given up on his fascination. This was the closest they’d been near each other. Not that it mattered either. He would rather be alone. He looked out the window drearily. Fucking birthdays.

“So—Jeremy Buxton right?”

“Correct.”

“You’re pretty tall.”

He snorted and glanced at her. “Likewise.”

“Taller than me.”

“This conversation is getting increasingly stupid, Weasley.”

“You just seem so down. You’re usually in a good mood.”

“I am? Have you really been studying me?”

“No—you’ve just always been pleasant and not an arsehole,” she replied grumpily, crossing her arms and looking out the window. He sighed deeply.

“I just—I’m having a really bad birthday.”

“Hap—“

“Don’t say it. I hate them.”

“Really? Well…I can’t say I hate my birthday. I do hate other birthdays. I only recently stopped looking at present exchanging with the mindset that I could use them better than my brother or cousins.”

“How very Slytherin of you, Weasley."  She shrugged, simply grinning back.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. Where’s your boyfriend?"

“He dumped me.” She frowned, ironing out her skirt absently. “Said I was a prude.”

“Well, shame on you for not spreading your legs and reciting the ABC’s of sex like a good girlfriend should." They both laughed and she hit him playfully with her foot.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“We’ve recently departed,” he replied bitterly.

“Sorry about your birthday being so shitty.”

“Thanks.”

“You’d get anything interesting?”

“A quill set that is going into the garbage.”

“I see,” she said with a nod, shutting the blinds to the cabin window and door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to do something nice for you. And if you tell anyone, I shall deny it and use one of my father’s ghastly inventions.”

He paled. “What are you going to do?”

“Hope you don’t mind Muggle music." She removed an iPod from her pocket. He wondered if they were the charmed ones that were strictly prohibited on castle grounds. It was an older one and he also wondered when her father made enough money, she had a model that was a decade older. His mother had drawn the line at him purchasing one. She stuck the headphones on his ears and scanned through it until she played a slow, seductive song. He raised an eyebrow.

“Weasley?”

“Not a word. See how much of a prude I am." She put a finger to her lips and taking off her robe. He felt himself blushing, but decided against asking again. She started to sway her hips slowly and he watched with baited breath. How was this happening? He swallowed as she dipped and then turned around, still swaying to the music that was echoing from the headphones. She took her ponytail out, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair as the other traveled down her body.

She started to undo her school tie and he licked his lips nervously. She bit her lip as she jerked at it roughly and then tossed it to the side, grinning at him wickedly. He gulped. His breathing deepening as she started to undo her shirt. She turned around and he found himself groaning in disappointment. She giggled softly, hovering over his lap and leaning against him as she held herself up with her hands grasping his thighs.

At that point the song looped, but he barely noticed. His lips were dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. He wanted to grab her at that point, but she finally sat in his lap. He shifted, knowing at that point that she’d probably be able to feel his erection.

“I know what you did for me in second year. Never forgot.”

He barely heard her. His hands were moving up her thighs as she grinded slowly against him. “Yeah,” he breathed out.

“Been waiting for the perfect chance to thank you." One hand found her waist. The other was on her inner thigh.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a deep chuckle.

“So now that that skank you hooked up with is finally out of the picture, I won’t feel too bad having you touch me. You can touch me anywhere, Jeremy.”

His hand moved further up her thigh. He was too hard now; too far gone. Lines were blurred between what was right and wrong. No going back.

“Anywhere,” he murmured. She gasped softly as his fingers fumbled with her knickers. Before he could continue, however, the train gave a violent jerk. He held her tightly as it did so, both of them letting out a surprised yell. Damn it, he thought angrily. Fuck. Shit. Bugger. Motherfucker. Damn it. She started to dress quickly.

“What do you think is going on?”

“There’s a being, laughing at me from up above, taking great pleasure in my misery.”

She smiled at him and started to put on her tie. They both paused when the Lighting Charms flickered off. She sat across from him. It was dark outside and he could barely make out her face, but he could tell she was scared. Maybe about being caught with her shirt buttoned improperly and her tie on crookedly. With a Slytherin. How humiliated she would be. His reputation was already rubbish. It didn’t matter to him.

They both jumped at the sound an animalistic growl that was so gargantuan their cabin shook. His hand grasped tightly to his wand immediately. Before they could react any further, the train was tipped over to the side. There was a wide arrangement of screams across the way as they fell onto the window. He crashed so hard into it that it cracked. They moaned in pain. The growl came again. Much closer then before; much angrier. They looked at each other, eyes widened in fear.

Suddenly a blur of fur crashed into their door and let out a furious roar. As they screamed shrilly, it grabbed her leg and tried to pull her out. Her screams became more frantic as he played a tug of war with the beast before casting a jinx that sent it reeling back. Frantically, he kicked at the window until it broke completely and they scrambled out of it. He yelped as he felt the swipe of air at his head. They had no choice but to fall backwards onto the ground on top of numerous shards of glass. Pain seared through him, but became a second thought as the sight of the monster furiously clawing to climb through the window.

“RUN,” he yelled as they fell back into the woods. He caught a quick glimpse of it before turning back around towards the woods. There was no full moon. And that thing was larger and more mutated than any werewolf he’d read about or seen pictures of. He kept running, making sure she stayed in front of him. Then, they both let out a yelp of shock with the change in terrain. They were soon falling down a very steep hill. He tried to stop to no avail and winced when he could hear her crash into several things; possibly trees. He had his own unfortunate encounter with a tree and let out a howl of pain.

He heard the monster stalking closer; its howl angrier.  He closed his eyes waiting to be torn to shreds. However, suddenly the howling turned from animal to human. What followed was a sound of agonizing pain. Silence followed afterwards and relief flooded him. Feeling a bit safe, he allowed himself to black out for a long while.

He woke himself up with a wet cough. When he opened his eyes again it was still dark and there was no Roxanne. He winced as he picked himself up.

“Weasley? WEASLEY? ROXANNE! ROXANNE!”

“Here,” she cried out from his left. He ran as fast as he could in that direction. He paused before her and nearly cried out. She looked like a rag doll on the ground. She looked at him with a small smile.

“I must be quite the sight.”

He let out a low whistle, kneeling beside her. “Can you feel anything?”

“I feel everything. I feel everything too much.”

He stood back and looked up the incline. He could climb back up and get help. But there were most definitely animals in the woods and no telling what else. 

“I’m going to pick you up.”

She was able to move her leg, but she let out of cry of pain as she did so. She was bleeding from her abdomen. He truly hoped it hadn’t bitten or scratched her. He pulled up her shirt and was almost relieved until he saw she’d been impaled by a piece of glass. A very large piece of glass.

He struggled to get her in his arms without hurting her, but there was no use. There was going to be pain involved. He balanced her, putting an arm around his shoulder. She leaned against his chest.

“Your house is going to destroy you for saving a Weasley, Buxton.”

“House already hates me, Weasley. This is just icing on the cake.”

While she didn’t weigh that much to him, having her in his arms while trying to climb such a steep hill was quite the challenge. Finally, he adjusted it so that he was carrying her over his shoulder. That had hurt worse, but it was easier climbing up. It seemed as it took forever as he climbed up it. She was groaning in pain, clutching on to his shirt.

When they finally reached the top of the hill, he shifted her back in his arms. He was started to get tired. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. They both could die before they got back to the train. He kept walking as fast as he could with her in his arms until they came upon a pile of flesh and bones. He blanched. She looked down at it.

“It’s flesh pudding. Gross.”

“Must be the werewolf. Can’t say I feel bad for it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “There’s something shiny in it. Might be a clue.”

“I don’t own a pipe nor do I have a doctor as a sidekick, Weasley."  Sighing in annoyance, he put her down carefully. She leaned against him as he reached into it, making a noise of disgust. It was a chain with a medallion on it. He squinted to get a better look and then he felt his stomach lurch. It was their family crest. He stared at it in shock.

“What’s wrong?" He shoved it in his pocket.

“It was a clue. A medallion.”

“You mean a family crest medallion? You mean that thing was summoned by someone? Isn’t that an ancient practice?”

“Very ancient,” he muttered, picking her back up. She whistled low.

“Someone is very pissed off at one of us. That thing came straight for us.”

Either his father was tiring of him or he was after Roxanne Weasley for some strange reason. There was nothing extraordinary about her aside from possibly her looks. Trying to send her father or mother a message? What in the world would his father want with them? Or had it been his mother? He doubted it. No, it had to be his father. He knew how cruel his father could be.

When they finally made it to the train, there was Ministry personal everywhere. Names and pictures he’d seen in the papers so many times before. He could also see his mother screaming at one of them and Roxanne’s father looking deathly ill as his wife held onto him. He was so dazed by everything he barely noticed someone run up to them. He blinked at the Auror. It was Harry Potter. He’d been honored if he wasn’t in so much pain himself.

“Are you okay there,” he said loudly. He shook his head as someone took Roxanne out of his arms.

“I don’t know.”

He could feel a sudden sharp pain in his back. His mother finally noticed him and started to scream shrilly, fighting with the Aurors that held her back. He must have been in really bad shape. The pain was sharpening. He removed the medallion from his pocket and put it in Harry Potter’s hand. The last he saw was his dazed expression. Then, he couldn’t hear anything at all. What a disaster. What a birthday. He saw black again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The iPod part may just be a little bit unrealistic (well, as unrealistic in terms of the Harry Potter universe). I am aware of what happens when electricity meets with magic. However, many that run on electricity in the series (even the Weasleys' Ford Anglia used electricity in some small way through a battery) have been charmed to work on magic. I imagine the same principles can be applied to even smaller electrical objects. Anyway, questions? Comments? Hate for me poisoning canon with my try at fanfiction? All are welcome!


	4. Not So Classic Whodunnit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry deals with the sudden terrible threat to the Wizarding World all while trying to deal with his own personal issues

“Is this or is this not your family medallion,” he asked her again as he held it up. She looked down at her hands. When her son had passed out, she’d shot a hex at Ron and rushed past the others; grabbing her son and crying hysterically. There was blood all over them. He and Roxanne were in critical at St. Mungo’s. What a complete disaster. The potions that were being traded were more dangerous than he thought. And their children had become involved. He doubted Henry Buxton would target his own son. At least, as a father himself, he hoped it wasn't the case. That only left Roxanne.

“It is,” she said coldly.           

“Did you send the werewolf after Roxanne?”

“No.”

He sighed deeply. “Did you send the werewolf after Jeremy?”

“How the FUCK could you ask me that question, Potter,” she spat out. “No. I didn’t send it after my only bloody son.”

“Can you think of any reason why your husband would want to go after Roxanne Weasley?”

She shook her head, tears still flowing. He didn’t believe she knew anything. It was pointless questioning her. He’d been asked to do it anyway. He pinched the bridge of his nose before answering. “Okay Mrs. Buxton. You’re free to go.”

“Where is my husband?"

“We’ve just brought him in.”

She nodded, getting up from the chair and walking out the door as he held it open for her. He stood there for a moment, looking down at the floor before jumping at her enraged scream.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD YOU?!”

She brandishing her husband with a great deal of blows and they both ended up on the floor as he tried to shield himself from the sudden attack. He'd been bought in by Ron and Dean. It would be the second time Ron had had to deal with her that day. He was the one who grabbed her, pulling her off of him as he nearly charged right back at her until both Harry and Dean had to step in. Harry narrowed his eyes at him as Dean took him in the nearest interrogation room. She hit Ron’s chest weakly.

“He’s all I have and he almost took it,” she cried out, falling to the floor. Ron picked her up from the floor, giving Harry a frown before leading her out of the area. He leaned against the wall. It was way too much to deal with. It made the Ministry and Hogwarts look incompetent. His family was directly in danger. If Roxanne would have died, he would have never forgiven himself.

The silver lining to the cloud was that the Ministry would take a closer look at Buxton. He begged for months; asked them to stop focusing so much on Malfoy and Zabini. While he was no fan of either one, he knew that they weren’t capable of providing such potions to anyone. It was too dangerous for their business and too obvious. Buxton was either their guy or he was working for someone. He went into the interrogation room.

The last time he’d seen Buxton it had been at the World Cup with some woman and without his wife or son. He remembered being particularly disgusted by his burping and farting, then surprised when the woman kept crawling all over him. When he asked Ron if he knew what that was about, he explained that he manufactured wands and was filthy rich. He’d thought that Pansy had married him for that reason alone until he found out the embarrassing details behind their marriage.

Dean stood in the room with him, looking at the man coldly as he stared blankly ahead. “Why am I here?"

“Have they told you about your son?”

He shook his head. “No. Why, what happened to him?”

“Your son almost died, Mr. Buxton. A werewolf chased him and Roxanne Weasley down a hill. They suffered injuries from the fall. He’s at St. Mungo’s.”

He looked at him in horror. “Is he going to be alright?” He'd asked it in tone that was he supposed was an attempt to be incredulous. The very fact that Harry had to question whether or not a father sent a vicious animal to kill his own son made him physically ill. He ignored his nausea and leaned forward.

“We don’t know yet. When we’re done here, you can go visit him.”

He looked down, frowning. “After that confrontation in the hallway, I'd think it best that my distraught wife be alone to tend to him.”

Harry rolled his eyes and held up the medallion. Figures he was one of those fathers. Lucius Malfoy had seemed to be one of those fathers and his son had grown into a spoiled narcissistic brat with a questionable sense of morality. That, in turn, created Scorpius. From what he’d known from his own sons, Scorpius was much worse. It was amazing to Harry that this man’s son actually saved a girl’s life. “Is this your medallion?”

He squinted at it. “It looks like it, but there are many scorpion crests—”

“Don’t play around with my head, Buxton. This is your medallion,” Harry snapped, tossing it towards him.

He looked at it again. “So?”

“So it was found in the werewolf’s remains.”

“Are you accusing me of summoning a dangerous beast to kill my son,” he asked angrily. “Are you moronic?”

"When did I accuse you of sending a beast after your son?"

Buxton glared at him pointedly before placing the medallion back in his trouser pocket.

“Do you know who Roxanne Weasley is?”

“Who,” he asked with a sneer.

“Either you’re a sick fuck with some strange vendetta against your son or you’re a sick fuck who wanted to kill a Weasley.”

“I wouldn’t kill my son and I don’t give a piss enough about the Weasleys. So that leaves what reason, Potter?”

Dean placed the book on the interrogation table and Harry placed it in front of the man. “You used some powerful dark magic. Or at least, one of you did. You or your wife. This magic requires your blood.”

“I have several family members that are Buxton’s, Potter. We share a crest. If you knew that much, you’d know that.”

He stood up from the table. “It doesn’t seem like you’re going to cooperate completely, so we’ll let you sit and think about it for a while until you’re ready to explain yourself.  And you're in luck! We'll be providing you that comfy sitting place at Azkaban. Your wizarding representative can meet you there.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Watch me,” he replied with a smirk as Dean grabbed the man, magically bound his wrists and led him out of the room. Ron came in moments later with blood on his robes. He shook his head in disbelief, taking the place of Buxton.

“This is insane.”

“I know Buxton did it. And I know he has something to do with this illegal potion’s trade business.”

“Minister is adamant on pointing the finger at Malfoy though, eh?”

“What’s your opinion?”

“This whole affair stinks of inside cooperation. Think it might be the Minister?”

“No, Wilkinson may be a dick but he has nothing to gain from any of it. He’d lose his seat and we’d all lose our jobs if it spiraled out of control. Someone could easily be trying to convince him that Malfoy is a problem,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“As much as I dislike Malfoy, it isn’t me.”

“Not me either. Hermione wouldn’t do it, of course. She’s the only one that has good repertoire that also holds a high position close to the Minister. Maybe not even an inside job. Maybe close friends, people in the wizarding council.”

“Could be anyone at this point. Can’t trust anyone, really. Maybe I can’t even trust you.”

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

“Well, I am one untrustworthy bastard." He took a deep breath. “If Roxanne would have died, that would have been it for George. He would have checked out. I don’t know how any of us would have been able to handle it. Who knew we’d be thanking Pansy Parkinson’s son for saving her life?”

“It’s definitely a mindfuck,” he murmured, spinning the medallion. Could there be another way the Buxton medallion could have been used for the ritual? He handed it to Ron.

“What do you want me to do with it?”

“Put it in evidence. It won’t be long until Buxton finds his way out of Azkaban. I have somewhere to go.”

“I actually needed to talk to you about something—“

“If it’s about Ginny remarrying, I don’t want to talk about it." He cursed under his breath as he left the interrogation chamber and Ron followed him close at his heel. He'd been avoiding it for months since the announcement had been made.

“Harry, we don’t see you around anymore. The kids miss their uncle. I only get to see you at work, mate. You’re going to have to face her one day.”

“I’m happy for her I just—I really don’t want to face it yet." He didn’t have the heart to tell Ron that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to face her, he didn’t want it waved in his face that he’d been a shitty husband. He also didn’t want to play nice with her future husband. He knew his first name…sort of—Gilbert, Gary or something—and that was as much as he needed to be aware of. Not that Ginny was necessarily vindictive enough to wave it in his face. However, she claimed he’d stop knowing her after a while so hell if he knew if she was capable of being vindictive.

“Marriages are just like that.”

“Ron—“                                                                                 

“Except Hermione and I. We still shag like rabbits.”

“Ugh…”

“You’d think she’d get tired of me groping her but she actually likes it—“

“Ron could you please, PLEASE  stop,” Harry said incredulously, stopping to glare at him. Ron gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Sorry. Nervous. Scared. Relieved. All mixed up.”

He patted his friend on the shoulder. “I know. We all are. I’m going to run my errand, rest for bit, and then meet you at St. Mungo’s.”

“Alright, see you then.”

 

He’d been late as he entered the room, his robe in his bag. He tossed it to the side and winced. Crick in his neck. He cracked it and then stared at her, sprawled on the bed naked. He kept his stare in surprised appreciation and then amusement.

“Well, you’re ready.”

“I’m always ready for you, Mr. Potter,” she said with a smile, turning towards him. “Here I am, in this muggle hotel—quite nice by the way—waiting for you patiently and no sexual greeting?”

“I was coming to tell you that we’d have to skip for the night. However, you look tempting.”

“Are you sure? Tonight, I’m Darlene and you’re Timothy. We are ironically falsely married, so let’s pretend we just got married. Take your virgin bride.”

He broke in laughter before climbing in bed with her, pulling her to him and kissing her passionately. He broke it reluctantly but still held her close. “Love, I’m serious. Tonight was rough.”

“I haven’t heard anything. What happened?"

“Two students were attacked by a werewolf on the Hogwart’s train. Roxanne Weasley and Jeremy Parkinson.”

“Are they okay,” she asked in alarm, taking the blanket on the side and covering herself.

“I don’t know. It’s still in the air. They broke bones, lost a lot of blood. Jeremy carried Roxanne quite a long ways up.”

“I should go check for Scorpius—“

“He’s fine,” he insisted. “All of them were fine instead of them. Someone summoned the werewolf with a Buxton medallion.”

“You can’t possibly think either one of them did it!”

“What other possibility is it?”

“Think about it. Buxton may be a lot of terrible things, but a fool he is not. I’m sure he didn’t send it after his son and what would he gain from sending it after Roxanne. Unless…”

“What?”

She sat up. “Unless someone wanted to send a message to her father.”

“George?”

“He’s in the potions business; albeit a small fraction of it. Maybe he’s working on something important that someone wants to get their hands on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a brilliant conclusion. Too brilliant. Are you the culprit?”

“Well you’ve been poking the enemy all this time, right? Would be perfect,” she replied sullenly, lying in bed, and turning away from him.

“Are we really going to do this?”

“Fuck you, Potter.”

“I was joking.”

“You were absolutely serious. If I would have known sneaking about with an Auror meant I’d be a suspect because I have the last name Malfoy, I wouldn’t have let it gone this far. Are you done interrogating, Holmes? Do you want a blood sample?”

He leaned forward to kiss her on the neck softly. “If I wanted one, I would just bite you on the neck.”

“Is there something else you wanted from me besides a good shag? I should get home.”

He sighed deeply. “Okay, is there any other way you can summon a beast using a family crest without using the family blood?”

“No,” she hissed. She stared at him for a moment before saying with a sneer, “I’ve wanted to ask you for a while: why are you fucking me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Is it to get back at Draco for your stupid rivalry in school?”

“You approached me and I didn’t want to do it. Remember that? Remember when I asked you what the hell your problem was and you said your attraction to me was the problem? Do you?!”

She sniffed, turning away from him. “No.”

“Yes you do.”

“I love him.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I genuinely love my husband and I don’t understand why I’m doing this and why you’re doing this! That’s why! And he loves me! Why am I doing this? Is it because I love you?”

“Why are you asking me?" He swallowed down that feeling of hurt and glared at her. “I don’t know—do you love me Astoria? Or do you get your kicks from screwing the man your husband despises the most?”

She leered at him, standing up from the bed. “Maybe I do.”

“Well, then. That makes you a perverted bitch, doesn’t it,” he replied coldly, getting up as well. It could get so incredibly sour with her. She went towards him as he grabbed his wand, hugging him from behind.

“Okay that was a mean thing to say. I’m sorry.”

“How long is this going to go on for?" His anger dissipated and he caressed the hand that grabbed at his shirt.

“How long can you wait for me to choose?”

“I know how this works. I’m going to lose.”

“If you can wait until Scorpius leaves Hogwarts—“

“You’ve given me this speech before,” he snapped, prying her hand off of him. She grabbed him again.

“Okay. After this illegal potions trade thing is over, I’ll tell Draco the truth—“

“He’ll murder us both.”

“And we’ll take it from there. If we aren’t dead,” she added lightly, standing in front of him and kissing him. He took the blanket off of her, pushing her nude form against him and deepening it. He pulled away reluctantly, leaning his forehead on hers and rubbing his nose against her cheek.

“You do know we’re terrible people for what we’re doing, right?”

She closed her eyes, pulling away and putting her head on his shoulder. “I know.”

 


	5. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy faces her recent past and worries about her son's uncertain future.

Pansy didn’t smoke, but she’d try the habit just to aid in helping the time pass by while Jeremy struggled for his life. So he’d decided to play hero—ridiculous. Instead of pride all she felt was regret and wonder at where she’d gone wrong. Looking out for number one was something she’d thought she instilled in him. The Weasley girl was fine. That was alright, but it shouldn’t have been at the expense of his life. She just wanted him to wake up so she could tell him that he was a fool, but a heroic fool. _He was a Gryffindor in Slytherin_ , she thought with bitter amusement.

However, it was ultimately the doing of someone that was after either her son or Weasley. She suspected her husband. Perhaps he wasn’t the buffoon she’d thought he was. Maybe he even knew about her and Blaise. He wouldn’t dare use his own son to get back at her—would he? No, she didn’t truly believe he’d intentionally do it (at least, she didn’t want to).

She shivered violently at the thought of it having succeeded. That type of summoning ritual also killed those who were in the way of getting to their victims. Thankfully, the potion that gigantic werewolf had ingested had been highly instable. The werewolf had to have had a great debt to someone; even if it had been summoned.

After so long, the head Healer approached her. She stood up. “How is he?”

“He’s stable now. Both of them are stable now. He should wake up in a couple of hours.”

She gave a sigh of relief. “Can I go see him?”

“Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait for the Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They have questions to ask. However, as soon as their gone, we’ll send you in.”

 “Okay. Thank you,” she replied stiffly with a nod, her teeth nearly clenched tightly.

Just past the Healer she spotted her estranged lover in his clothes in his robes, walking briskly in her direction. Her broken heart nor the fact that people might see didn’t matter.  She needed someone. Blaise's searching gaze finally fell on her in the crowded St. Mungo’s waiting room.  He hurried up to her and hugged her tightly as she cried silently against his chest.

“I came as soon as I heard. Your son is a bloody celebrity now.”

“Fantastic. Just what he needs.” Giving a weak laugh, she unconsciously allowed him to wipe away her tears. In that moment, she believed he wanted to kiss her. However, they remembered where they were. Pulling away from each other, they sat beside one another; uncomfortable cushioning making it more awkward.

“How is he?”

“Stable, thankfully.  They won’t let me see him until Potter and Weasley get here.”

“Who would summon a werewolf to go after kids?”

“Someone very, very angry,” she replied sullenly. She honestly couldn’t figure out any reason someone would want to hurt Jeremy or Weasley. Both of them were insignificant in the grand scheme of things. How would they have gotten Jeremy’s blood? He didn’t give blood and she’d never seen him with any cuts she didn’t know of. It then occurred to her that Jeremy did get nosebleeds every so often. Not too many times, but enough for anyone visiting their home to have pulled it off.

She studied at Blaise staring thought at the ceiling. Would he try it? Jeremy was an obstacle for him. Draco, Astoria, and Scorpius had also been at her house for various social functions. From what she’d heard, Scorpius was a bit of a kleptomaniac.

He had plenty of reasons to severely despise Jeremy and plenty of opportunities to gather ingredients for such a dark spell. She wasn’t quite sure he was advanced enough to summon a werewolf or how’d he know werewolves. His mother might have however. His business partner Draco did dealings with them every so often. She would remain suspicious of everyone.  Sure she didn’t have the resources Aurors did, but she knew how to talk her way around situations.

She'd been so deep in her observation that when he finally addressed her, it made her flinch. “I wouldn’t kill your son, Pansy.”

“I have to think of everyone.”

“Woman—” He started incredulously, staring at her. Lowering his voice, he continued, "Why in the hell would I orchestrate a murder plot against your son in an attempt to win your affections?! It would come back to me!”

“I have to think of everyone,” she repeated with more uncertainty.

“Should I leave since you think that I tried to kill your son,” he snapped impatiently, straightening up in the chair and ready to stand.

“No,” Pansy replied frantically and went to grab his hand but he snatched it away just as quickly. “No. I’m just trying to think about how this could happen.”

“Maybe your husband is after George Weasley and Jeremy was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Why not go after George Weasley?”

“Could have easily been a warning,” he said. He was still clearly annoyed, but he leaned back in the chair and simply tossed her a reproachful glare.

“But why then? Why there of all places? Why not sooner?”

“Someone might have been also sending a message to the Potter and Weasley family in attempt to scare them.”

“Can you think of all the ingredients used for that type of magic?”

“No, I’ve always specialized in potions. That should give you another clue about my involvement. My grades were downright insulting in school putting aside potions.”

She giggled. “I remember the Howler you received in the Common Room when your mother got the results for O.W.L.S.”

“I almost went missing like my own father. That summer I hid in my room I was so terrified,” he said with a smirk.

They remained silent for a while. She wanted to touch him. She just wanted to touch his hand or even have him touch hers. “This is going to sound terrible with everything happening, but I have to ask why the potions you offer for frizz are so lackluster.”

 “Are you an unhappy customer, Buxton?”

“I’m just frustrated. My hair is always frizzy.”

Clearly amused, Blaise grinned at her before replying, “I’m not particularly well trained in the hair potion department. That’s Malfoy’s area of expertise. However, if it’s not lasting long, there could be several reasons. Some of our potions react to mood as well.”

“Well then I’m most definitely screwed, because I know for a fact I am an unpleasant person.”

He laughed warmly, putting his arm around her. She tried to suppress the shiver that flowed through her at first, but embraced it with an inward sigh of pleasure. If he noticed, he didn’t let it be known.

“Love, you aren’t as terrible as you think you are. At least, not anymore. I personally think all things aside that Jeremy has revealed a warm and loving side about you.”

“That is horrific, Zabini. That is the most terrible thing you’ve ever said to me. Warm and loving—you sound like a Hufflepuff,” she mocked in offense. He dropped his grin and responded to her seriously.

“You’ve changed a lot. That was who I fell in love with. The woman you became. I liked you in school and all, but I didn’t feel that love until I truly got to know you.”

“Don’t say things like that! Not now of all times.” She tried to be dismissive in her reply, but the sweetness behind it made it damn near impossible. _Goddamnit Blaise_ , she thought as she tore her gaze from him to her hands.

She’d thought back to her behavior in school and how she’d become absolutely obsessed with making people feel as worthless as she had on a daily basis. Even when her father could show rare moments of affection, her parents mostly ignored her. Her friends only followed her because they assumed she had Draco Malfoy’s heart. And he? Found superficial interest due to similar obsession with cruelty. Cruelty that fed a boiling hatred towards Hermione Granger that brewed way past adulthood. Prettier, smarter, and with a husband that loved her. In her bigotry, her muggleborn status made her irrational hatred worse.

Then...Jeremy was born and he started to grow into a person that was no reflection of her or her husband. He was her happy little accident in every which way.

“Blaise?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you figure Jeremy turned out the way he did? His father and I have hardly set any good examples for him.”

“There you go, underestimating yourself as a mother.”

“But—“

“Pansy, we’ve known each other-albeit in a small way-for over three decades. For over a decade, we’ve been lovers. I know you quite well by now. You are more pleasant than you think you are. You told me once that you believed Jeremy got his personality and looks from his grandfather. Let's face it-the man was just able to put on a good act to keep up appearances. Point is, he is your son in all ways that matter. He is a reflection of you.”

“Are you saying that I have a little Gryffindor in me?”

“Very horrifying isn’t it? Almost stopped it right then when I realized it.”

She pushed him playfully. “Pig.”

 “Even that flaw aside, you’re not too shabby of a person. And your son is growing into a great man. You should be glad, you know,” he acknowledged, his fingers lazily sifting her hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to take.”

She glared at people staring at her and whispering. They all had Daily Prophets in their hands. She saw a school picture of Jeremy with the headline **FORMER TRAITOR OF HARRY POTTER HAS SON WHO BECOMES DASHING HERO** —bloody Daily Prophet. Who was writing those columns when that Skeeter harlot was on vacation? Was it Dennis Creevey or Marietta Edgecomb? Was it Parvati Thomas? She’d heard that cunt had been aiming for head editor. Two birds with one stone; giddy to humiliate both her and her son. On top of it all, Blaise was laughing silently. Bastard.

“If you would have kept your mouth shut—“

“I was desperate and scared and a young girl—you stop laughing!”

“Why? It’s funny! Don’t be so sullen. If anything, feel terrible for your son. His reputation is forever sullied by his heroism.”

“Do you think he is dating her,” Pansy asked. That was a concerning, awful thought. Her son should have had far better taste!

“Roxanne Weasley? That would be perfect wouldn’t it?”

“Perfect for a life not worth living anymore—”

“Do you have to be so bloody dramatic—“

“It’s a Weasley!”

“She’s not even a ginger—what’s with you and Malfoy and gingers?!”

“Her very essence is Weasley! The worst of the Weasleys! I hated the twins with a fiery passion! I will not have that girl a part of my family!”

“Don’t you think that’s a little bit harsh considering the situation? Tsk, tsk, so petty.”

“I forbid it. The Ravenclaw girl was one thing. And that would mean—fuck…I would be related to Hermione Granger.”

He went from a chuckle to full, hearty laughter. “Oh you’re right! You are absolutely right! You would be! Oh fates please make it be! It would be absolutely fantastic!”

 “You just put that out there to happen. You are a cruel man, Mr. Zabini.” She glared at him as his laughter turn into being silently contained. He tried, but it spilled out again and he was holding his stomach, doubled over.

“She would die as well. I can imagine the family functions. Red hair everywhere—“

“Stop,” she snapped, hitting him as people were starting to stare. He started to calm down, a look of realization on his face.

“Someone could have heard. It’ll be all over the papers.”

“Stop—it’s not funny and I hate you.”

“I heard she had her buttons redone weirdly—“

Pansy buried her head in her hands, moaning in distress. “I’m not hearing you. We will stop talking about it.”

“Fine, I’m done. I’ll just think about it when I need a pick me up later,” he replied, a grin on his face. She'd hide her own; damned if she gave him the satisfaction. Effortlessly, he kept her at peace. Even when he held her in bed and they said nothing to each other, she felt at peace. But while she was amused and happy at that moment,it was all temporary. Her affair was over. Blaise had ended it. She was still married to Henry Buxton who had been incarcerated. And she had a son who had become a celebrity in merely a few hours. She sighed deeply, her mood depleting again.

“What can I do to help stop this illegal potions trade?”

“Interesting that you bring that up. I need a favor.”

She eyed him witheringly. “Are you here for that?”

“I’m here for you. I was going to mention it later, but now that you’re bringing it up and you have enough to worry I thought you could handle just a little tiny more.”

“What is it,” she asked glumly.

“The Ministry is threatening to shut down our international importing and exporting yard for six months because they suspect we’re involved in the trade.”

“Let me guess: my husband is a suspect?”

“It gets worse.”

“How can it get any possibly worse than this?”

He began to fidget in his chair. She stared at him. “These chairs have always been unbearable—“

“What? What is it?”

“Harry Potter knows about us.”

“WHAT?!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“How could he know about us? Who did you tell,” she hissed, holding on to her chest as it started tightening.

“Draco knew.”

“Draco wouldn’t tell Harry Potter shite. He’d tell his wife but—“

She thought back to the night when Astoria nearly had a spasm because Draco would be meeting with Harry Potter. The look on Astoria’s face when she talked about him had been telling. If Pansy wasn’t a woman who was having an affair and hadn’t had those small reactions unintentionally herself, she wouldn’t have known nothing. One adulteress knew another. Blaise looked at her curiously.

“What?”

She couldn’t tell Blaise. If Blaise found out he would most definitely run to Draco and that would cause a shitstorm that while for a short time may be amusing, would more than likely cause a domino effect that would fall back on Blaise and her. “What does Potter want,” she asked nonchalantly.

“That’s it? That’s your reaction to it? I don’t buy it. I saw the gears turning.”

“I was just trying to figure how Potter knew.”

“And?”

“I’ll figure it out later,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t go beyond either one of them. She was sure of it.

“He wanted me to get information from you on your husband. Something that would implicate him in the trade.”

“He wanted you to shag information out of me? My, my, my. Harry Potter is quite the surprise.”

“I wasn’t going to do it. I was going to ask you.”

“And I would have told you to go fuck yourself, you stupid sonovabitch.”

“That was actually one of the responses I anticipated along with ‘die’, ‘get out’, and ‘I will ruin you’.”

She shrugged. “I’ll snoop around as much as I can. Can’t promise you anything, but if it will help find out what almost got my son killed I don’t mind giving you the information.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she said with a small smile. Then, she took his large caramel toned hand in hers. They were supposed to be calloused. The potions he created for skins were just as perfect as he was to her. Nothing less than perfection. Any woman would be envious. Yet there she sat with it so close yet never hers.

“Pansy, this doesn’t change anything.”

“I know.”

He didn't pull the hand away. Instead, he softly used his index finger to trace a line across her palm as he glanced away blankly. “I love you.”

She took it and guided it to her face, leaning into it. Soft, warm, and had once been hers. The very fact that he had surpassed sleeping with her and just told her the truth said it all. It was really over. And that short good feeling of peace and happiness disappeared again.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I edited this story and even thought about posting on here. I have a whole bunch of them, most of them slash. I want to publish them just for fun and see how it goes. Until then, I'm going to try to finish updating this one and posting more often. Until then, thanks for reading!


	6. Overnight Sensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy faces a strange future and a unfortunate possible reality.

Hazy whites and blues invaded Jeremy's vision as he woke up; expected be cradling Roxanne with Harry Potter yelling questions at him. He groaned in distress, nearly knocking over the pitcher of water that had been set aside. While he was wincing from the pounding in his head, a light chime echoed through the room and a pretty Assistant Healer came in with a blinding smile.

“There you are! Finally awake!”

“Well here I am, in pain and all,” he responded groggily. She handed him a canary tinged potion that tasted foul. Immediately he grabbed the water pitcher; ignoring the water splashing on him and down his chin as he chugged it. His mother hated when he did it. He frowned. Where had she gone? Shouldn’t she have been there?

“Can I see my mum?”

“In a bit. First, you have to talk to the Aurors about what happened. You’ve become quite the celebrity, Mr. Buxton,” she said with a mischievous grin, handing him the Daily Prophet and sauntering out of his room.

His eyes were in danger of popping out of his head from the headline. His mother was notorious in the wizarding world for one ridiculous comment she'd screamed as a scared child. As ridiculous as It was; he’d been made an immediate enemy of Gryffindors. It didn’t help that his house hated him as well. There it was to remind him of his place, in bold right above his school picture where he was grinning like an idiot and periodically scratching his nose.  He tossed the paper towards the foot of the bed.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, lying back down and staring at the ceiling. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he was saving the descendant of war heroes. Just been a girl he had an on again and off again crush on.

 A very fit girl he had an on and off again crush on.

He smiled softly. She was okay. That was all that mattered. He knew that the moment they shared, however,  would be a rare one. The only small moment he had ever remembered enjoying on a birthday that didn’t involve his mum.

He tried remembering what her skin felt like against his fingers but the door opened before his thoughts could be finished. There were her uncles: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. He sat up in bed, blushing and smashing pillow on top of his crotch.

“Hello,” he muttered, looking down at his sheets.

“Hello Jeremy,” Mr. Potter replied pleasantly. With ease they'd summoned chairs and sat next to his bed. They were adorned in Muggle street clothes but it still didn't make it any less awkward for him.

“How is she? Is she okay?”

They share a look of discomfort before he nodded. “She’s awake and she’s doing well. If you wouldn’t have carried her all that way, she would have died.”

“I’m just glad she’s okay,” he said with a shrug. His mouth started to feel dry as he attempted to look the best he could. There were legends of the wizarding world.  _No pressure,_ he thought nervously as he gave them a small smile.

“We need to ask you about what happened that night. Give us detail by detail.”

“We were in the cabin, talking, when suddenly the train lurched forward. Lights started to flicker and I think not too long after the train tipped to the side. This gigantic werewolf crashed through the door and tried to grab Roxanne,” he said as both Aurors noticeably paled.

“So I grabbed her, hit the thing with the best jinx I could think of. We broke through the window and crawled out, running. I don’t know how long we ran. We hit the hill and fell. I think she hit some trees. I don’t remember much of anything else after that.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Mr. Weasley said with his eyes narrowed. “What were you doing in the cabin alone with Roxanne Weasley?”

He didn’t know if he was going to be able to keep a poker face on for them, but he tried his best. “She said her family had been grating on her nerves. I was alone and in a mood because I—I caught my girlfriend performing oral sex on Scorpius Malfoy,” he finished lamely, putting his hand to his face. What he’d go and admit that for?!

They shared aother look. “So you were just talking?”

“We were just talking,” he squeaked out. “Just talking about how birthdays were terrible and all.”

“Happy Belated Birthday,” Mr. Weasley said in a deadpan tone that nearly made him want to run out of the room. His partner gave him an amused expression.

“Happy Birthday Jeremy.”

“Thank you,” he said, feeling his face turn red. Damn it.

“Jeremy, this is an investigation. You have to be honest. Nothing will leave this room. We just need to know.”

He sighed deeply, wringing his fingers for a long comment of excruciating silence. “Shegavemealapdance." He cringed as a chair knocked over, looking away and not daring to look at them.

“SHE DID WHAT?!”

“Ron--

“WHY? DID YOU—oh Merlin—“

“Ron—“

“But Harry—“

“Leave right now,” he said through his teeth. There was a grunt and heavy squeaking across the floor. He reluctantly peaked to see Mr. Weasley sitting grumpily in the chair beside him. 

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” Mr. Weasley said sharply, looking at the window. Mr. Potter sighed deeply again. He looked tired and worn. Sort of how Jeremy felt as well.

“So she was giving you a lap dance for whatever reason before the train had stopped.”

“Yes,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands. He’d told her he wouldn’t tell anyone. However, how would he be able to live with himself if he hadn’t been completely honest about what had happened?

“She admitted that was what happened.”

“She did?”

“I thought it was a sick joke,” Mr. Weasley muttered, still staring at the window.

He started to grin but he wiped it off after the looks he was given. “Oh well, telling the truth right?”

“We had to make sure that you were in the cabin with her for other reasons.”

He shrugged, his mood beginning to shift. Figures that even being a ‘hero’, he’d still be suspected of something. “It was just a chance occurrence. If my girlfriend hadn’t been polishing the knob of my rival, we might not be having this conversation.”

“And we don’t know if she’d be alive,” Harry replied with grim expression as Ron sighed deeply, crossing his arms.

“Is there anything else,” he asked, already feeling weary of the questioning.

“The medallion. You found it.”

“I did,” he replied, frowning. “Before you ask, yes, it belongs to my father. It is specifically my father’s. I know because it has a notch on the side.”

“Do you know any reasons why your father would want to kill you or Roxanne?”

“He never mentioned her. He doesn’t care for me that much. Maybe he has a new heir on standby." Terrible joke considering the timing, but what did he care? He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Do you actually believe that your father would have you killed,” Harry asked, furrowing his brow.

“I’ve never told anyone before, not even my mother." Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck at the memories of his father's cruelty. "But...my father has threatened on several occasions to knock my teeth in if I didn’t do this and that. He has a problem with me. I’m not sure if he’d take it that far, but then again, that’s all I know of him. We aren’t that close."

 He looked at the water that was left in the pitcher. He was thirsty again. He wasn’t used to feeling so nervous. Then again, he wasn't used to being as candid either.

“Sorry to hear that,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Thanks. Is that all? Can I see my mum?”

“Yes, we’re done.”

They started to walk out the room and he called after them. “I know you think my father is involved in this potions thing. I think I know something.”

Sometimes, Jeremy would dream that his father thought the world of him and would sit him down, apologizing for how cold and distance he’d been his entire life. Maybe a pat on the back and congratulation for high marks--joke with him about how he’d proven that he was the true head of Slytherin and not Scorpius. He had just wanted--just once--to hear that his father be proud. Perhaps he’d fought too hard to hope. Tine to let go. His father would never give him that.

They turned around in unison. “What do you know?”

He shifted on the bed. “I heard my father during Christmas break talking with a man through Floo late at night. He sounded angry. He wasn’t saying anything incriminating, but then he suddenly started talking really strangely. Letters and numbers; almost like in code.”

“Can you remember the day and time?”

“It was somewhere between December 27th and December 31st. Maybe around 1a.m.”

Mr. Potter gave his partner a knowing smile before looking back at Jeremy. “You don’t know how much you just helped us. I know it was hard to tell us that.”

“Just make sure you get whoever tried to us. My father or not,” he said, returning the smile and then dropping it as soon as they left. He shouldn’t have told them anything but he’d rather as well help. It was important, especially if his father had been somewhat responsible for that type of potion. He shivered at the thought of it being available to insane werewolves across the continent or even across the world.

He sighed, intending to close his eyes until his mother busted in. Tears were shining in her eyes; approaching him carefully as if she was nearly dreaming. He gave her a crooked grin and she finally embraced him, breaking down into hysterical crying.

“I’m fine, mum,” he said softly, patting her back. She pulled away and cradled his head.

“I’ve been waiting for hours! How are you feeling?”

“Confused. Really confused.”

She gave him a pitiful look. “About the medallion. You’re worried your father sent that werewolf after you?”

“Horrible isn’t it,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m thirsty mum.”

She cast a charm, filling up the water pitcher. He smiled brightly and almost did a repeat pitcher performance, but his mother beat him to the punch by filling the glass. “The next time you decide to be a hero, try not to do it so near windows and deep sloping hills.”

“I’ll try my absolute hardest.”

She smiled, ruffling his chin length brown hair. He usually hated when she did it, but he welcomed needed affection. “What did they ask you?”

He tried to keep himself from blushing. “About what happened? Gave them a little information on dad. Don’t tell him.”

“We hardly talk as it is, sweetheart. You have nothing to worry about,” she said with snort. “Your father is in a lot of trouble, but he’ll find his way out of it. He won’t be hurting you again if he did it, you can be positive about that.”

“Don’t do anything crazy, mum. You have that look in your eyes.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” she said softly, then started to cry again and brutally attack him with kisses. She hadn’t had this done to him since he’d been eleven years old and he’d come home from school. He'd been horrified, crying in protest and nearly running away. In the present moment, he decided to give her that and bared it. He gave her an amused grin as she sat down calmly and fixed her hair.

“Are you done, mum?”

She laughed, wiping away tears. “I think I’m done.”

 

Jeremy had been kept one more day for overnight observation. He’d lost a large amount of blood, fractured his spine, nearly broke his neck, and had several large shards in his back. Healers had been amazed when he’d been able to carry Roxanne all that way. Because of the extreme he’d gone to in his condition, people were beginning to question their connection to each other in the media.

He had frowned at the newest headline: **MODERN DAY ROMEO & JULIET STORY OF A GRYFFINDOR AND SLYTHERIN**. He didn’t know what offended him the most about the article; the grammatical errors, the terrible structure, or the cheap comparison with Muggle literature. His mother handed him the paper to him with reproach.

“What is this meaning of this?! Jeremy—“

“Mum, there’s nothing going on!”

“The look on your face tells me something’s going on!”

“You’re worried about nothing,” he muttered, rolling his eyes at the content. Well, perhaps they’d lose interest in him after that article. How much were they going to be able to report on him anyway? He imagined not much.

As he got ready to leave St. Mungo’s that day, his mother had gone off to sign him out and give him release to Hogwarts after he’d pleaded to continue. He couldn’t imagine how much study he’d missed out on. He sneered at the thought. He wasn’t that bad was he? His rationale was to make more available free time and be completely caught up while being able to maintain his social life. Then he remembered that he had no social life. Scorpius and his ex-girlfriend had made sure of that.

He thought it’d be his mother coming through the door, but it was Roxanne slipping through. Did she come to his room when people were watching? He didn’t care. He immediately hugged her without thinking and then felt like an idiot for doing so. He tried to pull away but she held on to him.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I thought we were goners,” she said with a nervous laugh, pulling away from him. “I was told you nearly didn’t pull through. I think the Beater in me was able to handle hitting large objects a bit better.”

“That’s something I needed to hear; that a woman smaller than me could take a better amount of abuse.”

“Not my fault my hero is softie,” she said with a smile, rolling her eyes. “I should probably get going. They’re going to get nervous if they find in here. I owe you my life, Buxton.”

“You owe a Slytherin your life. Be very, very frightened.”

She looked unsure of herself for a moment. He wanted to tell her that he hope for future friendship out of it, but never got the chance as her soft lips pressed against his. He was a bit embarrassed. He was sure he was pretty dry. Nevertheless, he kissed her back and almost deepened it until someone cleared their throat. There stood Harry Potter with an uncomfortable frown on his face.

“Uncle Harry!”

“Your mother and father are looking for you. You better disappear from this room lest you want more tabloid journalism sullying your name. I hear Rita Skeeter is coming back from vacation.”

She went out the door, giving him a small smile before leaving the room. Mr. Potter looked at him knowingly before he sighed deeply. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, I’m not who you have to be worried about. You have whole gang of Weasleys that are waiting in line to catch you with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“Fantastic,” he murmured, rubbing his neck. “Was there something you wanted, sir?”

“I struggled with coming to you and asking you for a little more information. I just need one more tip.”

“What is it,” he asked and looked at his mother coming through the door, glaring at him.

“Potter, your interrogation of my son is over.”

“Mrs. Buxton—“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Mum, it’s important.”

She crossed her arms, sneering at Harry Potter as if he were the dirt beneath her. “Absolutely not.”

“This is to help your son.”

She laughed sarcastically. “Right, like that wonderful Hogwarts and Ministry security has done for him. You’ve gotten all the information you need from him. Get out or I will report you for unauthorized questioning of a minor.”

He looked away. He wasn’t going to defy his mother. Auror Potter shook his head before clenching his jaw and leaving the room. She gave him a small smile. “Let’s go.”

His mother had decided she was accompanying him to Hogwarts. It made him feel like a little kid. He didn’t need a carriage ride with her. What was going to come after him now? Would he have to worry about it all bloody year? He walked out the Diagon Alley exit and was immediately blinded by a barrage of flashing lights. He covered his eyes, able to slightly tell that there were see dozens of reporters before them. The most prominent one was the grey haired Rita Skeeter adorned in an awful lime green dress robe.

“How did you feel when you thought you were doing to die?”

“What’d the werewolf look like?”

“How do you feel about your father and mother being supposed suspects of your own attempted murder?”

“What’s the status on the love triangle between you, Roxanne Weasley, and Lorelei Peters?”

“Get away or I’ll hex you all so badly you’ll be spitting teeth for the next month,” Pansy snarled, pushing past them with Jeremy beside her. He glanced at how miserable his mother looked and wondered if being a ‘hero’ was even worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while and a lot has happened in canon. Albus is in Gryffindor in this universe, so just remind readers this is a **NON-CANON** fanfiction, as are most of the fanfictions I'm going to post. Anyway, reviews are welcome! Until next time!


	7. Simmering to a Boil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In nostalgia, Draco faces both the beauty and possible ugliness of his marriage

Something was going on with Astoria.

She wasn’t there when they made love. He could feel himself inside her, could smell her perfume, and could see her hair plastered to her face. However, her eyes showed a woman that was nowhere near him. He would have thought on any other occasion that she was unwilling to have sex...if she hadn’t initiated more than he would. He’d be minding his own business—actually working on his business—and she’d flirt with him, grope him, or both until he caved in. She’d be there for most of it until it reached near intensity and she would check out.

It was starting to frustrate him. The last thing he needed was intimacy problems with her. He hated fighting with her, but it happened because he was so bloody frustrated with everything. That day in particular, he pushed her hand away from his trousers as he went over another week of invoices. He was trying to find anything that could possibly indicate his company in the trade; for anything that would make those Ministry bastards suspicious. It’d become an obsessive side project.

“You need a break.”

“Not now,” he murmured.

She pouted, glaring at the documents. “You love your work more than me.”

“If I say yes, will you fuck off,” he paused, giving her a sideways glance. She glared at him and started to leave the room until he grabbed her hand.

“Sorry, just really annoyed. Ministry’s on my arse and I don’t have a lot of time yet. I’m not counting on Blaise and Pansy Buxton. Do you know that idiot fell in love with her?”

“He must be a masochist,” she said with a clipped laugh, hugging him around the shoulders. “Sort of like you.”

“Obviously,” he said, putting the invoices in neat pile. He opened his arms with a small smile as she sat in his lap. He’d never imagined being married to Astoria. Hadn’t any chances to really pay attention to her in school. He had known of her, thought she was pretty and that was that. They wouldn’t officially meet each other until his father threw a party four years after the war. It’d been trying times. His father was slowly turning into a drunkard while his mother fluttered about in the social scene trying whatever she could to gain the momentum they’d really never attain again.

When before social gatherings had been to connect with prominent figures and make new business contacts, Lucius Malfoy had started to put them together as excuses to get drunk and act incredibly lewd; embarrassing both him and his mother.

The night he met Astoria he’d been in his room and she wandered in looking for the water closet.

“Your house is a maze, Malfoy.”

“A blind rat could find their way to the loo, Greengrass.”

“Well good thing I’m not a rat,” she snapped, bursting into his room.

“There’s a loo down the hall!”

“I have to go!”

She slammed the door behind him and he flustered. All the breeding in the world and pureblood women still hadn’t learned any manners.  He lied in his bed, sneering at the steady stream of urine. Is that what it sounded like when he took a piss? “You sound like a horse!”

She giggled. “Are you listening to me pee, Malfoy? I heard you were kinky, but that’s a step further than I thought.”

He jumped from his bed, intending to open the door and drag her off the toilet until there was a flushing sound. As soon as the sink had stopped running he opened the door. “Get out of my room.”

“You have a nice bathroom,” she replied with a smirk, sitting on the sink counter. “You should be nice to me.”

“Is this how you treat all your hosts? Burst into the rooms, pee an ocean in their toilets, and smear your fat arse all over their clean counters?”

She sniffed, jumping off. “You’ve looked very closely at my arse and you know it isn’t fat.”

“I’m not going to ask you again,” he said calmly, grabbing his wand and putting it at his side. She eyed it lazily before leaving the room. She was a conservatively dressed; nothing special. However, he could notice the lining of the bottom he’d insulted well. Clearing his throat and rolling his eyes, he shut the door behind him and continued to sulk for the rest of the night.

The next day, he’d saw her going for ice cream with her friends. All of them but her sneered at him while whispering things about his father feeling up a guest at the party. She frowned at them, throwing her ice cream away and strolling out without a word. He thought nothing about it, but they stared at each other before she blushed and started to walk away. He could tell she had a hard time deciding whether or not he should approach him. Draco smiled a bit at the curse she let out before standing before him.

“Draco, it’s nice to see you.”

“Hello Greengrass,” he drawled.  She sighed deeply.

“About last night—I had quite a bit to drink. I was rude. I apologize.”

He shrugged. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“I know you heard the things they said. And I know it’s hard for you after everything that happened. If you need a friend—“

He started chuckle and she glared at him. “Men and women can’t be friends, Greengrass.”

Flustered, she let out a huff. “They can! You were friends with Pansy!”

“I was fucking Pansy! Never liked her, she was just a good lay!”

She crossed her arms, a smirk on her face. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Terrible it may be, but it’s the truth. So is that what you’re offering?” He leered at her. She threw him a deserved glare of disgust before shaking her head and walking away. He found himself regretting it later while reflecting on his social status.

Goyle wouldn’t speak to him anymore. Theodore had essentially gone into business early and tried to keep friendships with other business men. Not much room for Draco who was still trying to figure out what’d he do with the rest of his life. There was Blaise, but Lucius didn’t quite appreciate how irresponsible he had started to become; claiming that he was losing his ideals of purity. Draco still held on to them and while he knew he’d be getting laid plenty with Blaise’s aid, his pride tended to stop him. Then there was Pansy. He feared giving the wrong ideas to her. It would lead to a proposed marriage and he couldn’t have that.

He was lonely. And when he saw her weeks later by herself, shopping for new robes, he decided that he’d have to change his views a little bit for decent company. Blaise’s invites to his wild parties were beginning to tempt him. He’d get himself in trouble. He approached her grumpily. She ignored him at first.

Why can’t she talk first? Is she going to make him be the one to talk? She was going to make him talk. Damn. “Hey Greengrass.”

“What do you want, Malfoy,” she replied nonchalantly, pausing in front of a purple robe. He hoped she wouldn’t choose it. It looked absolutely awful with her pale complexion. He eyed it with strong prejudice.

“Your offer for friendship. I was considering it.”

“And of course, you figured because you’re Draco Malfoy it wouldn’t have an expiration date. You’re such a pig,” she snapped. “And no, I wasn’t going to get it. That shade of purple looks terrible on me.”

“I’m glad,” he said with a smirk. He followed her as she went to pay for the robes. “Robertson, you can put it on my charge.”

“I don’t need your money.”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s having a moment.”

She began to turn pink, smiling tightly at Robertson who eyed them amusingly before putting it through. She collected her purchases and he followed her out. “Please go away.”

“I’m not asking for sex,” he said quickly, standing in front of her. “That’s not what I’m looking for. I’m really looking for a friend.”

She sighed deeply, glaring at him. “Just friendship? No hitting on me, making lewd comments—“

“I can’t promise I won’t be inappropriate with my wording, but I can try to not to stare. Either way you couldn’t blame me for doing so.”

She grinned at him before laughing. “I guess that’s as much as I can expect.”

“Never said it’d be easy to be my friend.”

“It shall be my greatest challenge yet.”

It was strange at first. He’d tried the same thing with Pansy. She’d give him attention he enjoyed, but he’d been embarrassed by it after a while until he took advantage in their fifth year. Then it turned into something completely awful by his eighteenth birthday. He had to cut her off. People knew things about their sexual habits. Things he’d rather have kept private.

Astoria was different. It was a normal friendship at first. They’d meet every week for tea, to play cards, or to play chess. He’d say something inappropriate and she’d get huffy until she’d finally grown to accept it. She’d tease him about the way he styled his hair and he’d talk about how she dressed like a Muggle nun. Six months into their friendship, he found out about her involvement in the battle at Hogwarts.

“You were insane to come back, Greengrass! You were only fifteen!”

She shrugged as they walked through his garden, pausing at the collection of daisies his mother suddenly had the urge to plant herself. The Muggle way! He grimaced at the memory of his father giggling at the announcement. “I would have been more insane to think that a world where Voldemort gained control would be better.”

“You must not have thought very highly of Death Eaters.”

“I didn’t.”

He thinned his lips nervously. “You must not have thought very highly of me.”

“You’d be right.”

“So why are we friends again?”

She grabbed the arm where the Dark Mark, examining it. It was wrong to let her run her small fingertips over it, but he watched her with bated breath. “I wanted to see it and then decide whether or not it was you or just a ghastly decoration. It turns out it fits you aesthetically.”

He pulled his arm away from her. “So you haven’t decided.”

“Answer was presented to you and you completely ignored it,” she said with a smile, pushing him playfully.

He knew he was in love with her a year into their friendship. It was realized when she unconsciously grabbed his hand. The daisies in the garden had taken over--what in the hell was wrong with his mother?! Had his father finally driven her to insanity?! They were whispering when they looked at him with smirks on their faces like little children. It infuriated him. He’d have them committed if he actually knew how to handle money properly. Apparently even in a mentally unstable condition his father could make money.  It certainly said quite a bit about Draco’s capabilities.

He looked down at it and then at her. “What are you doing?”

“Friends hold hands, Draco.”

“They do not,” he admonished, but couldn’t find it in himself to let go. “What are you trying to pull, woman?!”

“Girlfriends hold hands.”

He let go then. “Excuse me? I am your male friend! Your male friend with a rather large penis!”

“Rather large,” she said with a snort, rolling her eyes.

“Would you like me to drop my pants? Right here in this garden? Give the house elves, my parents, and you a show?”

“Keep it in your pants, Malfoy.”

“Point is, it’s there. So I’m your male friend.”

“And I suppose handholding is taboo?”

“Yes, because it implies something other than friendship,” he muttered, looking at her curiously. No indication of anything she might have felt. Her expression was calm and nonchalant. Then she smiled at him and he knew that she had him twirled around her prettily manicured finger.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry then,” she said brightly, grabbing a daisy and walking ahead of him.

He had struggled for a while with being open and honest about his feelings. He would lie in his bed and glare at the ceiling; expecting answers. He wouldn’t dare talk to his father anymore about anything so serious. He was afraid his mother wouldn’t approve because she disliked the Greengrass women for some reason he hadn’t understood. She was polite to Astoria, but he had no way of knowing how she’d react to any feelings he had for her.

It would be Blaise that convinced him to be open. He found him lounging on the couch of a flat he’d rented in Muggle London, nursing a hangover from some stupid party he’d been invited to. The purebloods that could stand it had shown up and made a mess of the place. He kicked a bottle aside.

“Why don’t you just borrow some house elves from your mother?”

“Mum is forever angry with me. I’m a huge disappointment, remember,” he muttered, the glowing blue tip of his wand aimed at his forehead. Draco sighed, handing him the Sober Up potion.

“Why am I here?”

“I have a business proposition for you.”

“You’re too tall and manly to be my concubine, Zabini.”

“That’s too bad, Malfoy, because you are certainly womanly enough for me to not be bothered with buggering you up the rear.”

“What is it,” he said witheringly, brushing off plastic cups littering a chair and sitting in it.

“Beauty potions. Packaging them and selling them.”

“That’s it? That’s already done.”

“Yeah, but the old men and women running their businesses are getting sloppily. The trade needs young blood. We’re young blood.”

“It’s a stupid idea.”

He snorted before he downing the potion with a cringe, grinning and sitting up straight. “Just think about it. Can’t get any work elsewhere. We don’t own anything besides what our parents left us or have given to us. And we’d just start off that way. I have ambition for bigger projects. Maybe developing offensive and defensive potions for the Ministry.”

“That’s not ambitious, Zabini. That’s trying to reach for Saturn with your hand.”

“In that case, it’s a good thing we’re wizards,” he replied with a smirk and then sighed deeply. “Don’t you want more out of life than just this? Living off our parents and just hoping an opportunity drops into our laps? I know it’ll work. I have ideas. You may have your own. We’re both good looking—“

“I’m better looking.”

“Yes, but that’s only because androgyny is highly fashionable these days.”

He gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it. I have to get going.”

Blaise nodded, lounging back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. “I slept with Pansy last night. I was thinking of taking it a step further and dating her.”

He put his wand down slowly, looking at him incredulously. “Pansy!? Pansy Parkinson!?”

“What?”

“She is my leftovers. It’s just tacky.”

Blaise took a pillow and threw it furiously at him. “Fuck you! What do you care anyway? What about Astoria?”

He stared at him blankly. “What about her?”

Blaise laughed. “Malfoy, just tell her. Tell her already.”

“Tell her what,” he snapped.

“You know what.”

“You don’t know anything about me and about her—“

“I know that you’re mad that I mentioned it. That’s all I need to know.”

He stopped himself from throwing a hex at him before disapparating out. He was in front of her parent’s mansion hours later in the middle of night; hearing a fierce argument. He knew her parents were on holiday, so she couldn’t be arguing with them. He heard another feminine voice and could vaguely recognize it as Daphne’s.

“This game you’re playing with Draco Malfoy is ridiculous! You are destroying our reputation, you know? People laugh at them. They laugh at his insane father and his absentminded mother. With her daisies—“

“Spare me the nonsense about the laughter from fools that don’t matter! You know nothing about them! And for the record, I happen to like her daisies.” Astoria shot back, sounding offended.

There was a silence before he could hear Daphne laughing sarcastically. “You’re in love with him aren’t you? Are you mad?”

“Shut up.”

“You know he’s just using you like he used Pansy right? He’ll have you on your back in no ti—“

He winced at the harsh slap and wondered at that moment if he should have left. But he stood rooted at the spot as he could hear her rushing down the stairs and out her front door. They stared at each for a long moment.

“Marry me,” he said, widening his eyes in surprise at what slipped out. He’d just plan on telling her how he felt and nothing else. However, he wasn’t regretful; just hopeful. Tears started to fall from her eyes.

“What,” she asked softly.

“Marry me and be mine,” he breathed out. Her sister looked absolutely horrified.

“Astoria,” she began, shaking her head. She glanced back at her and then at him, smiling that smile he loved about her so much. She ran up to him, hugging and kissing him deeply. He held tightly, afraid that she’d change her mind and realize what a mistake she’d made. She only pulled away to look at him.

“Now,” she said. He laughed, kissing her again and nodding.

“Now.”

The looks he had gotten when they walked hand in hand in the Ministry, asking to register for a marriage certificate. No extravagant wedding, no warning to their relatives (aside from a furious Daphne), and no ring. He’d ended up getting it for her much later, but it was more for others to see rather for them to know. He imagined they looked like fools standing there; probably very un-Slytherin of them. Maybe they assumed she’d been pregnant. It really didn’t matter.

Reality came crashing down when he realized he’d have to announce to his parents what he’d done. She’d hung onto him tightly as he came across them in the garden the next day. His father was drinking tea and thankfully there was no liquor in sight. His mother had a daisy in her hand, smelling it with a peaceful expression on her face that only managed to make him more nervous. She noticed their clasped hands and touched his father. He looked up from the paper nonchalantly, looked at them as well, and then went back to it.

“So you decided to go the elopement route,” he muttered, turning a page.

The expressions on their faces must have been hilarious. His mouth gaped further when his father rummaged in his pocket and handed his mother a small satchel of galleons. His father smirked then. “You even got the exact time right, Narcissa,” he said with amusement. She got up from the table and hugged them both, handing Astoria the flower.

“I had to help him romance you somehow. I knew you loved daisies, dear. Welcome to our family.”

Astoria cried happily, hugging his mom back. He was furious at first that his parents had betted on his romantic life. He crossed his arms. “Were there any other factors I should know about?!”

“We had a former bet about you ending up with Blaise Zabini—,” his father muttered.

 “WHAT?!”

“Or Harry Potter.”                                                                                           

“Oh, you two are just unbelievable,” he said with a sneer. His father shrugged as Astoria started to laugh, squeezing his hand. His expression softened and he gave her a small smile. So that was what with the daisies; his mother devious plans to help him get the girl. He should have known when his mother started on a project she’d take it to the extreme.

“Your mother brought up the names, not me. I’m just relieved.”

 

He held her tightly in his arms as she sat on his lap, not saying much else to him and once again looking like she was somewhere else. Maybe she was thinking about Scorpius and what had happened on the Hogwart’s train; what could have happened to him. Perhaps she was also worried about his business going under and their assets being frozen. Then, there was a part of him that was terrified that she’d finally figured out that he wasn’t much of anything. He really didn’t think he’d be anything without her or his son. He looked up at her and she finally seemed to make herself look at him.

“Where do you go?”

“I’m always here, love,” she said with a soft smile, stroking his cheek.

He frowned. “Are you sure about that?”

She sighed deeply, getting off his lap. “Come to bed. I’ll be waiting.”

He stared at her as she walked out and closed the door behind her. He narrowed his eyes, saying coldly to himself, “Liar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, again, it is a non-canonical look at their relationship and a small look at Draco's relationship with his parents. His relationship with both his mother and father are delved into deeper in later chapters, so hopefully people won't be too put off by it. Until next time!


	8. No Way Up But Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unpleasant dinner and bar visit has Harry rethinking his priorities

So his name was Gary, Harry thought as he sat there uncomfortably. Gary Fischmann. Ginny Fischmann. Harry tried to resist the smirk when they finally met each other. He would be their new stepfather. He looked an awful lot like a taller, less attractive version of himself. Did Ginny notice? Had she supposedly picked him out? The thoughts streaming through his mind were bitterer than he expected. He wasn’t sure how Ron convinced him to come to dinner that Sunday night. More than likely, he was enticed by the possibility of talking to George and Angelina.

It was extremely awkward. Hermione and Ron sat as his bookends. Perhaps they suspected he was going to have some sort of nervous reaction. Ginny was certainly eying him nervously as her future husband remained clueless.

“So when’s the wedding,” he asked, sipping on the wine.

They met at Madame Perrault’s; a wizarding restaurant hid behind a wall near the Belgarvia district. He almost laughed when they’d entered. They actually believed he’d cause a scene. So what if he had caused a scene when he’d discovered she was seeing another man fresh after their divorce?  All he saw was the back of his head and then nothing as he fell forward after Harry hit him with a jinx. Feelings were still hurt back then. It had been four years ago and he’d moved on. He’d moved on in the worst possible way, but he’d done it.

Ginny gave him a small smile. “We wanted something in the winter and before the year ended, so we settled on December 31st. We wanted the children to attend and participate.”

He smiled back, feeling his face starting to hurt from the unnaturalness of it all. “Perfect,” he replied, mechanically stabbing his salad to death. Hermione touched his shoulder softly as Ron stared at him while shoveling the food down.

“We’d—we’d like it if you come.”

 _Great, now he's addressing me_ , he thought bitterly. “I can’t promise anything. I’ll try to make it. I could have gotten an invitation in advance, though.”

“Sorry about that.”

His salad never saw it coming. It was no more. It was a terrible massacre of tomatoes, onions, and lettuce that viciously bled a side of oozing vinaigrette. “It’s no problem.”

George was enjoying it all, sharing amused glances with his wife. More than likely overtly happy that Roxanne was okay and was back to being a bastard with a sick sense of humor.  “This is a lovely dinner, ain’t it? Not awkward at all!”

Harry resisted the urge to glare at him. “How’s your ear doing there, George,” Harry asked with a smirk. He shrugged.

“It’s able to hear the screams of terrified vegetables everywhere quite fine,” he said happily, shoving a piece of meat in his mouth.

“Beautiful.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “I’m glad to announce that the Ministry is going to implement Astoria Malfoy’s initiative to teach proper defensive training in DADA starting after the winter break.”

“That’s fantastic,” Ginny said too happily, downing her wine. Anything was suitable to change the direction of the conversation.

“It was a good one. I was impressed. Didn’t know she had it in her. It was unfortunate that that incident happened, but it really showed him that it was needed.”

Harry noticed Angelina squeeze her husband’s hand. He’d been as much of a wreck as Pansy Buxton had been. She hadn’t been able to calm her husband. “Do you think they’ll come after her again,” George asked him and Ron. Ron swallowed down his food painfully, wincing.

“That’s the thing—“

“We don’t know if he was after her. He could have been after his son.”

Angelina looked at them incredulously before laughing. “You can’t be serious.”

“We wanted to know if you were working on anything special.”

“Something special that would warrant my daughter being killed? No,” George snapped, glaring at him.

“We’re just trying to make sure who we have to watch for,” Ron said defensively.

“Sorry I’m just—if she had—,” he sighed deeply. “No. No special distributors, no special new potions or products. Nothing that Henry Buxton would be interested in. In fact, we don’t even share the same suppliers and most of the stores in Diagon Alley do.”

“That leaves him trying to kill his son,” Ginny asked in disbelief.

“You haven’t met this man. Money is his first and last priority.”

“Don’t you find that a little bit much?”

“We think it might have been two birds one stone kind of deal,” Ron said with a shrug. “Trying to warn the Ministry, Hogwarts and off his son at the same time.”

“Why would he want to scare the Ministry or Hogwarts?”

“We’re starting to think that the illegal potions trade is a cover up for something much bigger. We don’t know what it is, but I can feel that it’s not anything too good.”

“Could’ve used that Potter intuition to prevent the attack against the train,” George muttered, staring down at his plate.

“George,” Hermione, Ginny, and Angelina said in horrified unison.

“It’s okay,” he said with a sigh, putting his napkin on his plate. He was done with dinner. Having dinner with the Weasleys just hadn’t been what it’d used to be. There was no more warmth that Molly provided. When she’d passed that spirit that she and her husband had provided had rested itself.

Their children were off at school and possibly in danger at that moment; not sitting with them and adding that much needed fun he’d enjoyed when they were younger. Ginny was longer his wife. No, she belonged to some prat Quidditch commentator that she probably considered an upgraded version of him. He was officially no longer a part of them. He expected the day to come when he’d been much younger. Not when he was so settled.

He could hear Ron snap at George before he followed him out. He was surprised to see both Ron and George when he turned around.

“I’m sorry, Harry. That was dickish.”

“It’s fine. It really wasn’t you anyway,” he said with a shrug. “Just stressed out.”

“How about just the three of us? Drinks? We could use them. Get away from the ol’ball crunchers in there,” George offered with a cheeky grin. “Come on, I’m paying. I’m paying when you should be paying, you rich bastard you.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Alright, but don’t invite him. Please don’t invite him.”

George dramatically pouted. “Aww, no drunken pub fights? You’re no fun Harry.”

Ron rolled his eyes and followed behind his brother as they went to tell their wives the news. They hadn’t done it in years. Always had an excuse to do so after they sent the kids off to school and before they’d been a thought. George had initiated it before he’d gotten serious with Angelina. His marriage still hadn’t stopped him from dragging them out for “wizard talk”; which usually included lewd conversation he half-heartedly participated in.

Ron looked grumpy as they came out. George smirked at him. “What’s your problem,” Harry asked.

“I had to break the news to Gary in there.”

“He did not like it. Thought we were singling him out. To which I replied that we were doing it on purpose.”

“Ginny jumped on me for it! Me! And then Hermione got pissed off at me for ‘instigating it’—bloody hell I need a drink now.”

Harry patted him on the back. “Sorry mate. Maybe in the future.”

“Fuck, I hope not. I can’t stand him,” Ron muttered.

“Why,” Harry asked in amusement.

Ron grunted as they walked into the wall that lead to Whomping Wash, a pub that George had discovered a decade prior. It been opened after the Leaky Cauldron was condemned for shady dealings. It wasn’t the only magical pub available, but it was the one that served the heaviest drinks. George elbowed him. “Quidditch plays disagreements. Ron is forever petty!”

“I am not,” he snapped as they picked a table in the back. While they hadn’t been there in a while, the drinks they’d usually ordered appeared. Harry waved a thank you to the bartender Amelia, who winked back.

“Plays are interchangeable, you prat.”

“Yeah, but there are always plays that don’t work and this moron picks them! Sometimes I think he just does it to oppose me, you know? These are plays have only a 30% chance of being effective. And Ginny cosigns with him!”

“Right traitorous she is,” George said, rolling his eyes.

“At the very least she should know the plays I’m talking about,” Ron snapped.

“Ron, you’re being petty.”

He glared at Harry. “Thanks for the support. Hey, why don’t you like him?”

George downed his drink, tapping the table. “Sensitive as ever, Ronniekins. Hey, Amelia, bit stronger next time eh?!”

“If you’re asking for less obvious reasons, I don’t like that he looks a lot like me. Sans the eyes.”

“You noticed that too, huh? I thought that was interesting,” Ron said thoughtfully.

“The very least she could have done was be with someone that looked a little bit different. I know red hair would have been kind of weird—“

“That would have been more than weird and I’ve dated them very discriminately. You can only take so much of bloody gingers,” George said with a smirk, tipping his head towards Ron who noticed and stuck his tongue out at him.

Harry tapped the table, wincing a bit. His head was starting to swim. “But I guess he’s okay. I don’t know him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to get to know him.”

“Don’t have to like him. But he’s not a bad guy. Really loves Ginny. Not that you didn’t,” George replied quickly. “Just think about getting to know him when you can. He is going to be around your children.”

“Not too happy about that.”

“Don’t expect you to be. But grin and bear it.”

“I’ll never like him,” Ron murmured, sneering as his eyes fell on the entrance. Harry turned to look and there was Blaise, Draco, and Astoria. She was clinging to Draco and smiling at her husband in adoration as they sat at the bar. Her dark hair was flowing down her back. It was the best part of her. Felt amazing when he ran his fingers through; grabbed it. She turned to look at him. His heart stopped as she stared at him, her smile faltering. He looked away and he could notice George studying him curiously.

“Were you talking about Malfoy, Zabini, or Gary,” Harry asked.

“All. Both. I don’t know,” Ron replied grumpily.

“So Harry how’s your love life,” George asked nonchalantly

“I have no love life.”

George looked in the direction of the Malfoys and Blaise. “You’d ever wondered what she ever saw in Malfoy?”

“Who? Astoria? Galleons,” Ron said with a snort.

“She isn’t like that,” Harry said softly. George crossed his arms.

“Oh? And how the hell do you know if she’s like that or not?”

“She had a very good proposal for defensive and offensive spells that are not only more effective, but are—“

“Cut the shite, Harry. I’m not buying it. I saw the way you were looking at her. Looked like a puppy that just got kicked in the face.”

Ron laughed. “What are you talking about George?”

Harry shook his head at George, but he knew he was going to continue. “Nice legs on her.”

“Who? Malfoy? They’re alright. George, don’t be a prick. I’ll tell Angelina you’ve been ogling women again.”

“Angelina and I have an understanding. She understands that I’ll look wherever I damn well please,” George replied with a laugh. “So Harry, what you think about her legs? Had up close and personal look at them?”

“George, what are you doing,” Ron asked, looking confused and lost.

“Ron, sometimes I just want to box your ears. Just want to punch you hard until your brain resets,” George said, smirking and shaking his head slowly.

“Just ask,” Harry muttered.

“How well do you know her?”

Harry sighed deeply. “A little more well than I should.”

George stared at him incredulously as Ron slowly turned his head towards him. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Harry replied, downing his fifth glass. “Not.”

“Are you INSANE,” Ron snapped, standing up from the table violently. It caught the attention of everyone. Harry grabbed him, frantically looking towards their direction as they gave them looks of confusion and annoyance.

“Very heated Quidditch debate,” George proclaimed, raising his glass towards them. They sat back down.

“Are you insane,” Ron repeated in a whisper furiously.

“Alright, I’ve got to know. I’ve always wondered if she just dyed her hair and if she was really a brunette because of the bloody blonde hair going on with the Malfoys. Carpets match the drapes?”

“Oh my god, stop it George,” Ron said angrily. “Harry, you got to stop it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? Did she put a spell on you mate? Hope you didn’t eat any funny chocolates.”

“Let’s not play pretend Ron. If Hermione wasn’t in the picture and you had a chance, you’d do it too.”

“I’m not you, George. I don’t have hypothetical fantasies about married women,” he hissed. “Besides, she has Malfoy germs all over her.”

“Don’t know how you managed to give Hermione children with that kind of attitude, Ron,” George said nonchalantly.

“Are you implying Hermione has been with Malfoy!?”

“What? How in the—okay we’ll go with that,” George finished with a grin. “So while Ron stews on that angrily, I hope that this started after my sister.”

“It did. I wouldn’t do that to her. Just doing it to myself,” Harry replied sadly. He ignored Ron, who was turning beet red. He tapped the table sharply, nearly causing their drinks to spill.

“You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you,” George said grimly.

“Yup.”

“Damn, that’s rough.”

“Bloody hell, Harry. I can’t fucking believe it,” Ron said incredulously, shaking his head. “Why? When? How?”

Harry was going to answer but George pounded the table sharply, right in front of him. He was looking up and he cursed under his breath. Draco and Blaise were approaching the table. Thankfully, Astoria hung back. Ron’s head hit the table hard as they approached, causing his glass to overflow and spill all over the place. George whistled at Amelia.

“Idiot brother tapped accidentally. Clean up!

“We’re sorry to interrupt your family—,” Draco paused with a sneer, “--gathering Potter, but we have information.”

“I’m a bit too drunk to take it down. Could you, like, send it to the office?”

“We were going to visit you tomorrow, but since you’re here, rather as well just get it out of the way. We found out quite a bit. This is bigger than just an illegal potions trade,” Blaise said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He sat up, intrigued. “Alright, you got my attention.”


	9. Scholar's Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something fishier is happening with the potions trade. Meanwhile, the consequences of Harry's actions effects all involved in an unexpected way.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment until all three of them got the picture and George scooted over in the booth. Harry followed, getting a good view Astoria. He tore his eyes away reluctantly. Draco and Blaise hesitantly tapped the table. George smiled at them pleasantly while Ron eyed them suspiciously.

“So what is it?”                                                   

“Well firstly,” Blaise said with a sigh. “We found out about the ritual. It wasn’t just some regular summoning ritual. This ritual was specific. We just don’t know how specific.

“We think it wasn’t for Roxanne Weasley because werewolf rituals require the blood of the intended victim. Jeremy gets nosebleeds. It would have been much easier to get his blood than it would have to get Roxanne’s.”

“Thank God,” George sighed in relief. "I mean--not good still, but at least it doesn't involve Roxy."

“So he’s sent a hit on his son?”

Draco pulled a handbook out of his jacket pocket, sliding it to Harry. “I came across this in my own library. It’s a manual on different ways the ritual could be used. We don’t know if it was specifically to kill his son. Maybe the werewolf was sent to retrieve him or something. There are a lot of possibilities.”

“You being Aurors should be able to figure that out,” Blaise muttered, tapping the table again.

“And the trade?”

Draco and Blaise stared at the Weasleys in distaste, downing their drinks and tapping the table. “Buxton has some suspicious things in his records, but nothing that would directly implicate him.”

“Fan-bloody-tastic,” Ron muttered.

“But it turns out Buxton has been talking to some very questionable people. They’re suspected radicals of the Reveal Movement.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Reveal Movement? What kind of bloody lame bullshite name is that?”

“It is stupid, but that’s Americans for you,” Blaise replied with a shrug. “The movement started shortly before the battle at Hogwarts. It was founded by an American wizard Horton Phillips.”

“Horton Phillips? I think we’ve come across a case file of his. He’s a muggleborn isn’t he?”

Draco crossed his arms. “The worst kind of muggleborn.”

“Malfoy—“

“Relax, Weasley. This isn’t a barb at muggleborns. This is a dangerous muggleborn that wants to reveal magic to muggles.”

“Hence the Reveal Movement,” Harry said with a frown.

“Why would anyone in their right mind want to do that,” Ron asked incredulously. Harry immediately thought of Grindewald’s initial plan to do so.  The wrong person in their “right” mind would want to do so, he thought grimly.

Astoria came towards the table. Harry started to look at her but George promptly hit him in the back of the head as her lips fell on her husband’s cheek. “I’m going to go home, dear. Please don’t be late.”

“I won’t be long,” he said with a small smile, kissing her hand. Harry looked away, wincing and rubbed his head. It made him physically ill. He glared at George, who shrugged dramatically. Draco stared after her for while with a forlorn expression. It made the guilt settle in deeper. Blaise coughed.

“Anyway, the Reveal Movement started when Horton Phillips was terrified of Voldemort coming to the States and wiping out his kind. So, his philosophy is that if the US government was involved in magical relations, they’d protect muggleborns. To some extent, the CIA is well aware of us as they have a department that works like our Ministry. However, he wanted it to go much larger than that.”

“Phillips wanted to reveal us to the American public, therefore causing panic and forcing the government to take action. Phillip gained supporters. Muggleborn, Half-blood, and surprisingly Pureblood,” Draco finished.

“Why would Henry Buxton want to join a movement like that? He hates ‘blood-traitors’ and anything he deems beneath that,” Ron asked.

“Purebloods jacked his idea and started their own movement. They have a similar goal Grindewald’s. They think in revealing magic to muggles, it’ll start a war that they believe they can win. In the meantime, Phillips is a bit bitter towards purebloods and half-bloods that helped Voldemort.”

“Phillips has decided that maybe purebloods and half-bloods shouldn’t exist anymore.”

“So basically, insane bigots want to take over the world. Always the same unoriginal shite,” Harry murmured, drinking his last mug. He narrowed his eyes at Draco.

“Malfoy, since when did you have a twin?”

“That’d be terrible,” George said, looking genuinely horrified. “Don’t ever say that again, Harry. I’m going to get nightmares.”

Draco glared at them, then at Ron who was giggling madly. “I’m glad you find the eradication of our race hilarious.”

“I do not!”

“We’re talking about a World War here. By two sides that want it to happen. And since Henry Buxton’s—“

“Scholar’s mate,” Ron yelled out suddenly, causing all of them to stare at him. George poked at him.

“Are you broken?”

“No, you idiot! Scholar’s mate! That’s the code he was talking in! He was using chess moves to talk to his contact—they must both be shitty at playing chess. That’s a terrible move,” he said with a snort, taking another drink.

He’d meant to ask Jeremy what it might mean, but his mother had blocked him. There would be no more help from him and he doubted Jeremy would go as far to go behind her back. “So what?”

Ron called out Amelia. “Can I borrow a quill, ink, and paper?”

They stared at him as he drew a crude chessboard and let out a disgusting burp. George narrowed his eyes at him, waving hands around to clear the air. “Charming, Weasley. Really charming.”

“Shove it up your arse, Malfoy. Alright, so a scholar’s mate is when you use a pawn, a bishop, and a queen to checkmate. It’s also called the Four-Move checkmate. He used the first letters of pieces instead of the actual pieces.”

“What kind of significance could that have?”

“Maybe it’s not in such deep code. Maybe it’s talking about the move they’re going to make.”

“So three people that represent the pawn, the bishop, and the queen,” Harry said thoughtfully as he stared at Ron’s diagram, tapping the side of his head absently. “They’re using someone to move forward. The second in command must work for the ‘queen’ or the head of the operation. It could have been a warning on Phillips. Jeremy said his father was angry.”

“If it means it’ll lose him money, he’d be very angry,” Blaise said. “This war could speed up wand production. He may not be on either side. He might just be looking to make a buck. He might be playing sides.”

“But why the attack on the train,” George asked in frustration.

“Maybe it was a distraction. Amelia, Sober Up Potions,” he slurred out, leaning on the table.

“A warning of what’s to come. Maybe they want you to stay out of the way,” Draco replied. “Potter, they might be intending to use our children to really incite an angry war.”

“I feel bad for the kid, you know? Still not thrilled about but…I can’t really hate him for taking that lap dance anymore,” Ron said suddenly. He stared at him in horror. _Ron, you goddamn idiot_ , he thought as he brought his palm to his face with a resounding slap.

Draco rolled his eyes and brought out his wand, then stared it before going to the bar and picking up his potion. George stared at Ron. “What?”

Harry looked at Ron furiously, drinking down the potion and wincing. “Drunk George, he’s nothing it’s. Shite—take that and scramble it around.”

Ron turned red, picking up his potion and gulping it down. “Nothing.”

George grabbed Ron by the ear, pulling him sharply towards. “What was that about a lap dance?”

“Well,” Blaise said with an uncomfortable glance at them, standing up from the table. “We’ll just continue this conversation at your office in the morning, Potter.”

Blaise scurried away before he could witness the confrontation any further. Harry didn't blame him. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford that luxury. “Fuck—George! OW!”

“Harry,” he asked him angrily.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Did she,” George asked incredulously, his face beginning to redden. “Oh. Oh no...”

“George calm down—“

“How am I supposed to be calm—that’s why she was in the cabin with him, wasn’t it?! Ron, you told me she was talking to him about Quidditch, you filthy liar!”

“They could have! LET GO!”

George stood up from the table. “I have to get to Hogwarts. Right now.”

Harry grabbed him by the shirt as he tried to make his way out of the booth. “You can’t go to Hogwarts now! There are visitor blocks up and you have to fill out a form to visit—“

“I don’t care. Let go of me Harry.”

“George—“

“I appreciate him saving her life. I really do. But the last thing I’m going to have is the son of a monster— his grimy hands all over my little girl. Bloody Christ, I thought the papers were talking nonsense and it’s true?! Oh nononono—”

“So what? You’re going to kill him? Go home and calm down.”

“Fine, I’ll just send an owl to her cousins. They’ll do the dirty work for me.”

Ron bristled angrily. “If you get Rose and Hugo in trouble because Roxanne wanted to give Buxton a happy ending—“

“SHUT UP RON,” George snapped, grabbing him roughly by the collar. “That’s not funny!”

“George, you’re going to humiliate Roxanne by telling them what she did? And then humiliate her further and let her know you know?”

He glared at Harry, his fist raised and aimed towards Ron’s face as he held his collar. “Can I still punch Ron?”

“I’ll go visit him at the school, okay? I’ll have a talk with him. Dean Thomas and I have clearance to come double check the protection around the castle.”

He sighed deeply as he let Ron slap his fist away from him. Instead, George slapped him roughly in the back of the head. “Oh fine. I was just going to ask them to play some pranks on him. Maybe cause some permanent damage to nether regions. You know the basic stuff.”

Ron glared at him. “You must keep forgetting how much taller I am than you George.”

“And it must make you feel much worse that even if you were eight feet tall, I’d kick every foot roughly, several times, without breaking a sweat.”

Harry shook his head, laughing. “You guys will never change. Please don’t.”

Ron smiled at him, but then it faded. “Harry, please stop it. I’m begging you. Before it blows up in your face.”

They made their way to the exit, saying their goodbyes. He walked to his flat alone in thought then stopped at the image of Draco Malfoy sitting on the stoop. In his drunken stupor, he hadn’t realized how stupid it would have been to talk about his affair. Even with all the people around, the noise, and his own talk—he would find a way. He stood up slowly. Harry stared at him incredulously.

“What is it, Malfoy?”

He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I was on my way home and thought maybe; just maybe Harry Potter knows something about disintegrating marriages.”

He breathed a sigh of relief that he hoped would be taken as a sigh of annoyance. “Go home Malfoy.”

“Potter, was your wife cheating on you with Gary Fischmann before your marriage ended?”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Not that I knew of. It crossed my mind. Wait, how’d you know who he was?”

“Are you daft, Potter? He’s tremendously famous. You’d think your bubblehead of a friend would be on your arse about that,” he said with a sneer. Harry glared at him.

“What is it that you want from me? Are you looking for signs? Want me to tell you that when you try to look in her eyes, she looks away because maybe she’s afraid you’ll see that she’s no longer emotionally there?

“That when you make love you can’t enjoy it because there’s barely any love left? Or maybe how you realize too late that something is wrong? Because you were too stupid to notice that answer was right in front of you.”

Draco sat back down on the steps. “Actually, I wanted to hear the exact opposite. Shite,” he said angrily, kicking an invisible object and putting his head into his cupped hands. He walked closer to him, still smelling the alcohol on him. Sometimes, the Sober Up potion didn’t quite work for everybody. It would work half way, the whole way, or no way at all. It figures an experienced potions maker wouldn’t feel the effects properly.

“Maybe there’s hope for your marriage. You seem like you love her.”

He lifted his head. “Do you think I’m incapable of love just because of the way I was in school, Potter?”

“I know that there’s such a thing as loveless marriages.”

“Our marriage isn’t loveless. That’s what makes this all the more confusing and frustrating. I even came to you asking for advice and you’re miserably divorced.”

“I see that you’re as sensitive as ever, Malfoy.”

“I’d apologize, Potter, if I wasn’t drunk and upset. I can’t get home. I’ll get splinched drunk.”

“Do you know how to get home the Muggle way?”

He looked at him, shaking his head before laughing. “Not from here I don’t. I don't want her to see me this way--please don't make me go home like this. If I do, I might say something ridiculous.”

He almost said no. Letting Draco into his flat was a bad, bad idea. It was a bad idea that would lead to something terrible. He could almost feel something coming. However, he wasn’t going to let him hurt himself trying to get home nor make an arse of himself with his wife knowing exactly what he was doing to make things worse. He sighed deeply and motioned for him to follow him into his flat. It was small because the kids had opted to stay with their mother at the Burrow when they were home from school. They’d even started to spend their Christmas’ there. So instead of paying the bills for a large house he’d live in alone, he’d downgraded to a bachelor’s pad. Sometimes James would stay with him, but it wouldn’t be long.

They’d live in some large Manor with their new stepfather more likely, he thought bitterly. He studied Draco as he looked around his flat, waiting for some kind of insult.

“No Gryffindor colors? Color me shocked, Potter.”

“Do you have your house decked out in Slytherin colors, Malfoy?”

“No, but you have horrible taste in clothing, so I believed it would translate to decorating.”

Harry reached into his closet for pillows and a blanket. _This is my life_ , he thought with dark amusement. Tending to the drunken husband of the woman he was having an affair with. He knew in some strange way he sort of deserved it. He yawned, putting the things on the couch. He noticed Draco staring hard at daisies that were in a vase. Astoria’s favorite flower. He didn’t remember when he’d started putting them in his flat. She never came to it. It was way too risky.

“Huh,” Draco said thoughtfully, still staring down at them.

“Malfoy—“

“Daisies. Fucking daisies.”

He stared at him. “What’s wrong?”

Draco looked at him and then at the daisies. He started to laugh hysterically. “FUCKING DAISIES!”

He frowned, backing away and glancing around for his wand. “I don’t see what’s so funny about daisies.”

“It’s hilarious really. Daisies in your flat,” Draco said calmly, walking towards him. “Did you know my wife likes daisies, Potter?”

“She does? They’re pretty flowers.”

“Pretty flowers for a pretty woman, right?”

“Sit down Malfoy and go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Drunk, but everything is bloody clear. Answer—answer right in _bloody front of me_ and I completely ignored it. Looks you shared over the past year at gatherings—“

“Wait Malfoy, before you—“

“That initiative that you so graciously put through. Every time I say her goddamned name in your presence you look like you’re going to faint. Ignored it! Ignored it because I wouldn’t think she would ever, EVER think of doing such a thing to me. And with you, all people. Fucking Potter,” he said angrily, shaking. Before Harry could grab his wand, Draco called for it.

“ACCIO WAND!”

He watched as his wand tossed. Quickly, he was tackled to the floor and choked viciously. Harry punched him in the face, sending him reeling for a bit before he reached for his neck again. He kicked furiously before he could do it. Malfoy punched him. He shook his head vigorously. He was always stronger than he looked. He’d straddled him and held him up by his collar. He thought maybe he was going to head butt him, but that wasn’t what happen.

Instead, Harry felt his lips. It had gotten ridiculous. He should have pushed him off and, as he said to his wife years prior, asked him what the fuck his problem was. But Harry kissed him back. Draco grabbed his hair harshly and bit hard on his lip, drawing blood. Harry didn't pull back but grunted and they deepened the kiss. He didn’t stop when he felt Draco’s erection pressing into his thigh; grinding into it heatedly in their sudden enthrallment. However, he stopped when he felt his own erection building. Cringing, he pushed Draco roughly off of him.

They stared at each other for a moment in shock. He licked his bottom lip, looking at Malfoy’s. It was stained with his blood. What in the fuck just happened?!

He didn’t even know what to say at that point. He just came up with the first thing he could think of. “You bit my lip.”

Draco stared at him disbelievingly at what he was hearing. “That’s all you can say, Potter? That I bit your lip?!”

“It hurts and there’s blood on your lips. You look like a vampire.”

Rolling his head back, Draco leaned against the back of the couch. “Why are you shagging her Potter?”

“I don’t know.”

He glared at him. “Are you in love with her, Potter? What is it with you men that get your jollies off on having affairs with unavailable women?! She’s my wife Potter! I love her! I love her a lot!”

“I know—damn, I know,” Harry replied, lying back down on the floor. “I didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

“How’d you do it? No wait, don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me. I should have gone home but no, I had to come to get advice from the man that is responsible for the near destruction of my marriage. And instead of killing him with my hands like I planned, I kissed him and bit his lip. Worst pub night ever.”

He got up, not looking at him while taking his own wand from his hands. He sighed deeply. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”

He winced at the words he’d said. He didn’t know what he was doing at that point. Maybe all of it was beginning to crash down around him and he had no control over it. He thought about what Ron had told him before he’d left the pub. _Before it blows up in your face_.

It hadn’t just blown up in his face. It had bit his face, tasted blood, and opened up a huge can of worms. He made his way upstairs to his bed, hoping that Draco wouldn’t follow and hoping that he would.

It was only a couple of seconds until he felt the bed shift and Draco was straddling him again. He kissed him again; softly and passionately. Bad move Harry, he thought. He let himself get lost in his kisses, his touches and everything else that followed. Bad move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a reason I did not include this pairing in my initial lift. Had to be some sort of surprise. Hang on, it's about to get more insane. ;)


	10. Perpetual Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy finds much needed support and makes a life threatening decision

He became quite proficient at hiding.

At first, he’d appreciated the attention from them.  Many of them were cute and some of them were downright gorgeous. All of them were suddenly more interested in him than they ever had been. Not that he was necessarily ugly. He knew he was attractive, but his status as the house pariah kept him from really connecting with other houses in the way he hoped. With his new status, they saw him from each and every house; even his own. That was the problem.

He couldn’t be left alone to concentrate on anything but them asking him questions about himself, what he liked, what it’d been like, and if the rumors about him, Roxanne, and Lorelei was true. He’d made the mistake of confirming that he was single. Even the Slytherin girls that weren’t intimidated by Scorpius would fight over who’d sit with him in the Great Hall. He was flattered for three days.

It was two months down the line and he was tired of all of the attention. How did anyone else deal with it? How did the Potters do it? He didn’t want to be rude to anyone, but sometimes the Slytherin would come out and he’d say something nasty. Not that that stopped anything. No, then they’d be convinced he was some sort of silly anti-hero.

“Lorelei says you’re still together.”

“Lorelei is a liar,” he snapped to one girl, who was way too close from comfort. She was pretty, but she smelled as if she bathed in muggle perfume.

She had tried to get him back anyway she could. He’d come out of a class that would be quite far from the classes she’d take and she’d be there waiting, trying to talk to him. She’d waited outside the stone wall entrance for him in the morning and they’d argue.  People knew what she’d done on the train. Scorpius would see the display and instead of being amused, he sneered in disgust. It seemed like a permanent sneer of disgust. It was the only factor about the situation Jeremy enjoyed. Scorpius had to be jealous of the attention he was getting.

He figured that James and Albus Potter would be a bit bothered by the attention being shifted from them to him. They’d always been the boys everyone would hang on; sons of heroes. However, whenever he’d be cornered by new fans or girls, one would elbow the other and they’d start sniggering madly.

One day, he came across James Potter in the Owlery. He’d been quite preoccupied with a girl from Hufflepuff. She ran off giggling and he stood there with a pleasant expression on his face for reasons Jeremy would rather not have known. “Potter,” he acknowledged politely.

“Buxton,” he said with a smirk. “How’s it feel being a celebrity?”

He shook his head. “It feels weird.”

“I can tell you’re enjoying the attention.”

“That must be sarcasm.”

James held up the new Daily Prophet article on him. “It’s a study on how children are not always like their parents; whole article on your mum and you.”

He groaned angrily, snatching it from him. He’d read it and was horrified about the way they’d spoken about his mother. Hadn’t she gotten enough attacks from everyone as it was? His father was still in Azkaban. Their assets were frozen aside from a fund that had been managed to be set aside for him. It was small; soon to run out. He was starting to hope Zabini changed his mind and offered some sort of comfort to his mum. When he had that sort of mindset, it convinced him things would only get worse from that point on.

“Perfect.”

“We get it every year. Just lovely stories about our mums, dads. Accusations of affairs. Snide comments about our grades. It was a disaster during the divorce. Rita Skeeter had a field day,” James said in disgust. Jeremy gave him a sympathetic look.

“I’ve dealt with it for a couple of months. You’ve dealt with it for your entire life. I couldn’t imagine that.”

“At least it’s somewhat positive public opinion for now, eh?”

“I’m waiting for it to shift so that people would just leave me alone,” Jeremy muttered, whistling for his own owl Hopskotch. He landed on his shoulder for the moment and he reached in his pocket for owl treats. James handed him one and he gave him an appreciative smile.

“What’s your deal, Buxton?”

“Huh?”

“Not that I believe all Slytherins are bad or anything like that. You’re just really different. Not one insult since I started talking to you.”

He walked towards the window with his letter strapped to Hopskotch. It was something of encouragement to his mother. She had to know that someone loved and cared for her. He hoped it would be enough. “Take it to mum, boy,” he said affectionately, letting him fly off.

He turned to face him this time. “In case you haven’t notice, my whole house has despised me since second year; courtesy of Malfoy. And while I hold many Slytherin traits, apparently being a bastard is something I can’t grasp yet.”

James looked uncomfortable at that moment. “Did your father—“

“I don’t know,” he said sharply. “I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”

“Sorry.”

“What’s the deal with you? Why are you talking to me? We’ve never had a conversation before, Potter.”

“I wanted to see what you were like.”

He sighed deeply and started to walk out of the Owlery. “I’m not trying to hook up with Weasley, Potter.”

He caught up with him, stopping him. “Wait, that’s what you think this is? Me trying to figure you out for the sake of my cousin?”

“I’ve been approached by Molly, Hugo, Rose, and your own brother. Hell, even your father came to the school to warn me about it.”

“Who Roxanne decides to be with is no business of mine. Unlike them, I know she’s capable of making her own choices.”

“So there are reasonable people in your family. Here I was thinking they didn’t exist aside from Roxanne,” he said nonchalantly, then realized he used her first name without really thinking about it. He thought about her a lot. He must’ve have caught the look on his face, but instead of a sneer he smiled softly.

“You know…if you like her, don’t be a coward and worry about the reaction you’re going to get from others or even my family. Just go for it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not easy. Potters and Weasleys are pretty zealous when it comes to who we’re around. But I figure you’re not that bad. I can forget your mother’s past. Besides, who am I to judge you? I’m sure you’ve heard of my reputation.”

He’d heard it from Scorpius; inadvertently. Whenever he went on about the Potters, his insults about James would always involve accusing him of carrying all kinds of disgusting sexual diseases and how he only excelled at being a whore. Scorpius had mastered the art of hypocrisy too well. “I’ve heard a bit.”

“Definitely not my father’s son,” he said softly, a hint of sadness in his tone.

Jeremy cocked his head at him and wanted to kick himself for wanting to say something nice. “You seem to be a lot like your father. More than you think, actually.”

James started to laugh. “How in the hell are you a Slytherin, Buxton?”

He gave him a crooked grin and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

James walked out of the Owlery, pausing to say. “I’ve gotten a lot of peace here when I started to learn how to hide really well.”

He’d been appreciative of his advice. He knew plenty of places students usually didn’t visit at certain times of the day. So he made a schedule out for himself and found that he did have peace. He’d even managed to get permission from the Potions Master to use the room for his Potions studies during Hogsmeade weekend.

A lot of free time with no girlfriend, he’d thought bitterly. Speaking of which, Lorelei had an actual interview with Rita Skeeter where she told her a bunch of lies. She made him look like some type of woman beater. The visits from girls started to come less frequently. He found her in the hallway, chatting up Scorpius. As he passed them, Scorpius put his arm around her as they both smirked at him. What a shock there.

“Buxton.”

He paused, turning around to stare at them incredulously before laughing. “Never figured you for one to like hand-me-downs, Malfoy.”

He walked away with his own self-satisfied smirk. That would be the last time he’d see them around together and thankfully, the end of stalking from Lorelei.  

As it neared mid-October, people started to forget who he was again. At first, he went back to craving the attention and being treated like someone special. However, he started to adjust again to being ignored. He was back to being another Slytherin. The articles had finally stopped. His mother wrote in her letters that she was relieved the whole mess was over.

He used his returned nobody status to wait for Roxanne as she came down from practicing. She was sweating profusely, her hair wild and all over the place. He knew he’d gone back to liking her quite a bit when he could see her in that state and be able to find her still somewhat breathtaking. Her caramel skin was turning red from the sun, which he found sort of amusing considering it was near winter.

Luckily, she was the last of her team to go into the locker rooms. Only girl on the team that year. Lily Potter was suspended indefinitely for terrible grades as Seeker, so from what he’d figured Albus had taken over as alternative. He wasn’t such a fan of Quidditch. He could never find interest in it, but still read the sports section for the statistics. He started paying attention again when he came back, watching her swirl about in the air.

When he was sure Albus was in the boy’s locker room, he grabbed her hand. She jumped, but smiled when she saw him. “Jeremy.”

“Roxanne,” he said.

“What are you doing here? Are you actually hiding?”

“I’ve gotten good at it.”

“Taking tips from James, huh,” she said with a soft laugh, taking a towel and patting her face.

“Amongst other things.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Are you buggering him? I heard he likes boys too.”

He chuckled. “No. But now I know to protect my arse whenever I come across him.”

She laughed softly and looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing here,” she asked again, more seriously.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s interfering with my school work. Well not really, I’ll always be brilliant—“

“How modest,” she said in amusement.

“—but it’s still driving me crazy. Thinking about you.”

She came closer to him. “I’ve been thinking about you too. I think about you harder when Albus tells me ‘Stop it, Roxy, I can almost hear your thoughts! It’s gross!’”

“You think about me—harder,” he added with a smirk, pulling her closer.

“What are you doing,” she whispered dramatically as he pulled her into the Slytherin locker room. He’d tried out for Quidditch at the behest of his mother, but he wasn’t very athletic and it’d been humiliating. He knew that could possibly lower his chances as an Auror, but at least he could run really fast.

“You need a shower.”

“We’ll get in trouble.”

“Do you really care if you get in trouble, Weasley,” he said, pushing her against the tile.

“No, but I thought it would be more chaste if I claimed so. I don’t want to look like a complete slag.”

He leaned forward, sticking out his tongue and licking a trail up her neck. “You’d better not be. Almost got killed saving your life, Weasley. The very least you could do was wait until I had a go.”

She closed her eyes, moaning softly. “I’m torn between addressing that disgusting statement you made and paying attention to how deliciously filthy you were for licking my sweat, Buxton.”

He found her collarbone, licking upwards until he found her lips, flicking at them with his tongue. Her mouth parted and he kissed her passionately. She smelled like grass, sweat, and maybe the sun. He didn’t know what the sun exactly tasted like, but it was all he could think of as she kissed him back. He grasped onto her shirt, pulling it up—

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, detention, and a report to Grittson for abuses of your Prefect status, Buxton.”

Fucking hell, he thought as he turned around and glanced at the whole Slytherin Quidditch team. Scorpius stood there looking—not satisfied, but infuriated. About what? About him bringing a Gryffindor into their precious locker room?  No, that wasn’t it. He was glaring at him and then at Roxanne. She smiled nervously. “Buxton was just showing me the best features of the Slytherin locker room. He wanted to rub it in my face. And as you can see, things got a little bit out of control—“

“Leave. Weasley,” Nott said heatedly, clutching his broom.

She rolled her eyes, but gave Jeremy a huge smile as she walked out. He returned it. “Really Buxton, sleeping with the enemy,” Lockman, the captain of the Quidditch team said in disbelief. He shrugged lazily, following her out until Scorpius grabbed him by collar.

“Try to have a little more respect for you house, Buxton. Remember you sleep in it at night. You being some second-rate hero changes nothing,” he snarled. Jeremy sneered at him hatefully, pushing his hand away roughly.

“I got it Malfoy,” he snapped, stalking out of the locker room. Roxanne was waiting for him and giggled. He shrugging, grinning at her and standing beside her.

“My house is going to be pissed.”

“Hey, I have to sleep with one eye open. It’s back to second year again. You’re always getting me in trouble, Weasley. If it’s not a werewolf, it’s a Scorpius.”

She bit her lip and gave him a soft kiss, pulling away reluctantly. “You owe me a date.”

“After the game. You can study with me.”

“Ugh, really? That’s your idea of a date?”

“I’m dedicated. We’ll figure out other things we can do.”

She grinned at him before making her way into the accurate locker room. His own grin dropped when Albus came out of the Gryffindor locker room.  He made a speedy exit. He paused to stare at a machete propped up against the wall. He looked at it distastefully. It belonged to the new groundskeeper. He always left it against the bloody supply shack instead of keeping it at his shack. It was such a long ways from the Quidditch field. Just his luck, he thought as he took it and made his way towards its home.

 

No matter how much he hated him, Scorpius wouldn’t give him detention during the Quidditch match. He was able to sit in the stands with Hufflepuffs, the only house that wasn’t giving him suspicious glares. Word had spread around fast about his encounter with Roxanne in the locker rooms. No newspaper articles, thankfully, but word of mouth had been twisted into him giving it to her bareback. He appreciated the imagery either way. He squirmed under the glares of the family. He was surprised, however, when James sat next to him, popcorn in hand.

“Potter.”

“Buxton.”

“You do know that you’re sitting to me and it looks very terrible right now, right?”

“Oh I know, I just don’t care,” he replied with a huge grin, offering him popcorn. He rolled his eyes, smiling bitterly.

“You’re just enjoying my discomfort.”

“There was rumor spreading around that I was buggering Lockman. Anything to take the attention off of me,” he said with a shrug. “People will believe anything. I also wanted to warn you about the Howler you may be seeing in the near future. Rose sung like a canary to Uncle George.”

“Just what I need.”

“Roxanne Weasley barely misses getting hit by a Bludger! OH AND SHE HITS NOTT SQUARE IN THE FACE WITH THE BLUDGER!  OH THAT MUST HAVE HURT! GREAT JOB WEASLEY—sorry Headmaster,” he added sheepishly. He stopped himself from applauding, knowing good and well that he wanted to have a restful night.

“Slytherin and Gryffindor are tied at 100! Keeper Larry Lockman calls a timeout! Looks pissed off—may be trouble in the bedroom with Potter—okay, okay I’ll stop! I’m sorry Professor, really I am! Sometimes I can’t help myself.”

Jeremy started to laugh hysterically as the commentator was replaced by Lily Potter, who was glaring at Orphie Maddenson being led off by Headmaster Grittson. James sighed deeply. “So much for rumors dying down.”

“Did it happen,” he asked.

“No it didn’t happen,” he snapped. “If I was going to bugger a man he’d be better looking than Lockman.”

“And we’re back! Taking over for Orphie Maddenson, I’m Lily Potter. Again, Slytherin and Gryffindor at a tie. The Slytherin team is back in the game and we’re off! Phillip Jameson gets a hold of the Quaffle and he scores! Ten points for Gryffindor! And—and it looks like Albus Potter has spotted the snitch! Scorpius Malfoy chases after him! It’s beginning to rain! Should prove to be an even more challenging match!”

Jeremy started to develop a peculiar feeling in his stomach as he stared at them chasing after the snitch. He watched Roxanne hit a Bludger at Chaser Hamilton Mittsford this time, who was about to score for Slytherin himself. She missed him, but it certainly distracted him enough for another Chaser from their team to get a hold of it. His eyes fell back on Albus and Scorpius.

Then he saw it somewhere in the distance. It was a blur at first; hardly noticeably in the rain. He stood up slowly as it came closer. Was it a Dementor? Couldn’t be a werewolf, they didn’t fly. This thing was heading towards them fast. James started to notice it too and stood up next to him.

“What is that,” James asked in horror.

Lily Potter saw it next, standing up. “THERE’S SOMETHING THERE! THERE’S SOMETHING COMING! HEADMASTER GRITTSON, THERE’S SOMETHING COMING!”

There were screams from the crowd as all the players froze to stare at it. It was no Dementor. No flying werewolf. From what he could see, it was no beast he’d ever read about or seen. It looked like it was rotting or its flesh was falling off. Its teeth weren’t fully covered—only partially so. Students began to scramble from the stands. He stared at it and wondered if it was coming for him. It completely ignored him and went straight for Scorpius. Albus at yelled to him to move.

“Bloody Christ,” he said as he ran from the stands along with James. It was completely chaos. Students were falling down the stairs.

“THE SPELLS AREN’T WORKING! THAT THING DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH,” Professor Longbottom bellowed.

“WE HAVE TO GET ALL THE STUDENTS INSIDE!”

“IT’S AFTER SCORPIUS MALFOY!”

Were they going to help him? He grimaced. He didn’t like Malfoy. He’d made his life a living hell at Hogwarts and went out of his way to make him feel like an outcast. And quite honestly, he didn’t care much about what happened to him—except he didn’t want to see him killed. He was going to do something very, very stupid. He ran to the locker rooms as James followed him.

“What are you doing?! We have to get out of here!”

“I have to help Malfoy.”

“What?! Buxton, that thing won’t even absorb spells!”

“Someone has to help him,” he snapped, pausing to look at the machete. James stood there, watching him with his mouth gaping but not running off. Incompetency finally paid off. He grabbed the machete and coughed as the rain started to get heavier, going to the field. He got a better look at the thing. Three limbs on each side; two legs, one arm. No eyes from what it looked like. Extremely large tongue hanging to the ground as it stalked towards Scorpius. The wings on it were ridiculously small. It was playing with him as he crawled away from it helplessly. Roxanne was screaming.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DON’T DO IT, JEREMY! ARE YOU INSANE?”

If he cut off the back leg, it would put the monster off balance. It would be able to fly, but maybe it wouldn’t be able to move well. He needed find a way to cut off his legs. He was on the field now, only a couple of feet from the monster. It sensed him and turned around. It was a bad idea. It let out a terrible roar and charged towards him. He waited until it was almost close enough. About three feet away when he dodged close enough to bring the machete towards it leg, chopping off the foot. It let out a scream of pain as it wobbled down.

He stood back up, having twisted his ankle for doing what he’d done. He was starting to wobble as well. The monster was preparing to fly. However, before it got a chance a Bludger came right towards it, distracting it. He followed his glance up to Roxanne, who looked terrified. Looking away, he charged for it, slicing off a small section of its head.

He managed to climb on top of it, cutting off its wings. He gagged when blood started to spray in his face, but tried to ignore it as the monster started to collapse. He brought the machete down and stabbed it though the monster’s skull. There was one last roar and then, it twitched before falling still. He straddled it for a while, not believing what he’d done until he saw the blood on his hands. It looked human. He looked back down at the monster. It didn’t morph into anything. It just turned grayish as the blood continued to spill.

He climbed off it, barely noticing as teachers, James and the two Quidditch teams came slowly towards him. He winced, feeling pain again. He was never going to hear the end of it. Maybe he just should have let Malfoy get eaten and that would have been the end of it. He squinted at Scorpius, who stared at him for a while in shock before wincing as he got up from the ground. He walked towards the monster again when he noticed a glint.

“Mr. Buxton, get away from that thing! It may not be dead!”

“It looks pretty dead to me,” he replied, reaching into the hole where the wings had been. He pulled out the chain and there was the medallion. Scorpius came up, grabbed it from his hand, staring at it in horror. It was a cobra. It was a cobra from the Malfoy household.

His mother was going to kill him.


	11. Where There is Smoke, There is Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Harry's unfortunate activities are revealed to an unexpected party, the Golden Trio discovers that the attack may involve more than just the Dark Arts

There was a mass of press and confusion surrounding the outer grounds of Hogwarts. Reporters, Ministry officials, and concerned parents stood outside panicking as he felt himself ready to collapse. It the monster had been successful in killing Scorpius Malfoy, it may not have stopped. If spells hadn’t worked, then the cloaks on Hogwarts more than likely wouldn’t work on it. They were dealing with very ancient magic. There were no wizards that he knew of that were powerful enough to pull it off. He didn’t believe for one second that Draco Malfoy was capable of setting off whatever the fuck that thing had been on his own son. Someone was playing with them. And he wouldn’t get an ounce of sleep until he figured out whom.

Rita Skeeter was asking stupid questions. She was accusing the Ministry purposely trying to kill Death Eater children. Harry had glared at the article in disgusted disbelief. People would believe it. It made the Ministry and Hogwarts look terrible, especially since Jeremy had once again intervened in saving another student’s life.

“He’s got a major set of balls on him. That thing is gigantic,” Ron said to him as they walked the bridge towards Hogwarts.

“Teachers and students were terrified. Maybe he was the only one who had the courage to do it.”

“Magic didn’t work on it, Harry. Something that large and not even a Severing charm worked on it.”

“I know. This is our fault, you know? After that incident, security should have been must tighter. We should have known after that meeting with Blaise and Draco that they were planning something else.”

“We can’t blame ourselves for it—“

“We can’t,” Harry asked incredulously, glaring at him. “Hundreds of children were in danger today. And if Scorpius and Jeremy would have died, that would have been it. If you think now is a disaster, think about what that would have started.”

They walked in and went into the Great Hall, where students sat crying and whispering, looking traumatized. There was a small table set up where Aurors were taking down eyewitness accounts of what had happened when the monster came.

“—started fly towards Malfoy! It was just coming up really fast!”

“—were falling down stairs, almost trampling all over each other. I saw James Potter and Jeremy Buxton run towards the locker room before we ran off towards the castle.”

Roxanne sat there with Dean Thomas, sighing and looking exhausted. Her father was nearby, watching grimly as she gave her accounts. She’d been there trying to stop Jeremy from going after it.

“I saw him stand there, waiting for it to come at him and I thought—,” she paused, and then started to cry hysterically. “I thought it was going to kill him. It would have. It started to fly again, I hit it with a Bludger and he jumped on top of it—I can’t do this anymore. Please let me go see him.”

He gave a look towards her father, who crossed his arms before sighing and nodding. “I just need your signature and I’ll see if you can see him yet. He’s meeting with family now.”

She nodded, looking down on the floor and sniffling. He and Ron walked up to George, who looked at them with grimace. “So we’re at this again? Living in dangerous times. I thought this was over.”

“So did we,” Ron said sadly, looking back at Roxanne.

“I’m going to look like a prat if I tell her, ‘Well gee, Roxy, I know he saved your life and then a bunch of students’ lives, including a known rival of his, but I can’t stand the possibility of a future relation to Pansy Buxton and her slob of a husband.’”

“Pfft, why not? I’d do it if it were Rose.”

“I want to do it. Badly. But she’s upset and traumatized. I’m not going to add on to it. In fact, I’m shocked that he risked his life to save Scorpius Malfoy. He’s as stupid as you were Harry. I’m starting to think he admires you.”

“That’s unfortunate for him,” Harry muttered, looking around the room. “You know what’s worse? Buxton is going to be let out now. We had him. Now we’re back at square one.”

“No chance Malfoy would do it to Scorpius, right?”

“No,” Ron said with a frown. “Malfoy is a git, but he’s a git that loves his son and spoils him as rotten as he had been. We have to look at that handbook again. Is Hermione here yet?”

“She and Ginny are with Lily and the others in the Gryffindor Tower. Lily is still upset,” Harry replied. When he’d arrived, he went to check on them. Lily was huddled on the couch as James held her tightly.

James had been standing there, watching Jeremy fight it with a Beater’s bat in his hand. He’d plan on taking it on if Jeremy hadn’t succeeded.  He didn’t know whether to be proud of him or scold him for being such an idiot.

“Are you and Jeremy taking pointers from your uncle and I? Are you mad? That thing could have killed you!”

“Dad, it was going to kill him. What was he supposed to do? It was his housemate. Would you have stood there and not done anything?”

He was going to tell him that he would have run inside with the other students, but that would have been a lie. “I would have thought about it.”

James smirked, rolling his eyes. “No you wouldn’t have. You would have intervened. Because you’re bloody Harry Potter.”

He smacked him in the back of the head. “If you put yourself in danger like that again, you’re not going to see the light of day when you come back in the summer. Smart arse.”

James glared at him before sitting back down on the couch, staring at the fire. Harry, despite it all, smiled to himself as he left the tower. It was nice to see that James held his own ideals. He had been worried with the rumors he’d heard about his sexual activities. It’d bothered him a lot. Considering how out of control he’d been with his own sexual activities in the past months, maybe James was too much like him.

Roxanne walked to the Infirmary with Ron, Harry, and Dean trailing behind her. They paused as Pansy Parkinson came out. He waited for her to somehow attack Ron, since she’d used any reason to do so before all this mess started. Instead, she stared at all of them before going towards Harry and punching him squarely in the nose. He went back stunned, yelping in pain and doubling over. She packed quite a punch for someone who looked so thin and small.

“This is second time my son has been failed by the Ministry! You’re nothing but goddamned morons running around with your heads cut off!”

“We’re doing the best we can, Mrs. Buxton!”

“Oh shut up, Weasley. I want to pull him from school! He had to beg me to let him stay because he has a thing for her,” she said in disgust, motioning towards Roxanne who looked away. Harry glared at her, holding his nose.

“Ernt ertack er,” Harry managed to cough out. Damn, that hurt.

“If anything else happens, I will promise I will use every resource I have to make sure you wouldn’t be able to get jobs as janitors. You’ll be nothing by the time I’m through with you,” she snapped, glaring at Roxanne before stalking towards the Great Hall. He leaned up against the wall as they stood there looking at him.

“Are you okay, Harry?”

“No,” he snapped. “Ron, do you mind?”

He came forth, taking Harry’s chin in his hand and leaning it back a bit.

“Episkey,” he said calmly. Harry winced as it snapped back in place. He stood back and shrugged at him.

“Could no one have stopped her before she broke it?”

“I thought she was going to come at me. I guess I was just so relieved she ignored me this time that it hadn’t occurred to me that I should protect you,” Ron replied with a falsely innocent expression on his face.

“You just want to laugh because I got hit by a woman,” Harry said bitterly, then winced at how utterly ridiculous that sounded. His stupidity was showing no bounds. Roxanne frowned in anger and crossed her arms, letting out a huff.

“If you’re done being sexist, can I go in and see him?”

“After we question him. Stay here with her, Dean.”

Harry paused in his steps as he saw Draco and Astoria sitting with Scorpius by his bed. Astoria didn’t look at him, but Draco did. Instead of sneering, he looked back down and turned slightly pink. While he’d purposely cooled it off with her, he’d started it with Draco. He didn’t know whether Draco was sleeping with him to get back at Astoria or sleeping with him because he was obsessed. In love with same woman and sleeping with it each other. He started to believe they’d been driven insane by loving her.

He turned towards Jeremy, who was staring at the ceiling in deep thought. He and Ron walked forth, taking the seats by him. They didn’t say anything for a moment. He made the first move to address them. “Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. I always have the pleasure of seeing you after I’ve almost died. If I wasn’t sure that I was alive, I’d think I was in hell or something, being arrested for being a Slytherin.”

“Our questioning isn’t going to be as intense as before,” Harry assured him. “What happened?”

“Monster went after Malfoy and because I’m an idiot, I grabbed a machete that the groundskeeper always keeps leaving by the Quidditch supply shack and decided to play hero again.”

“You found another medallion.”

“I did.”

“The Malfoy family medallion.”

“Looked like it.”

“It was mine, Potter,” Draco said stiffly. “It is my exact medallion. It’d gone missing a month ago. Always keep it in a chest in my drawing room.”

“I didn’t think you’d done anything to attack your son,” Harry said incredulously. “That didn’t even cross my mind—do you mind?”

“Actually I do. I wonder how in the—“

“Draco—“

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped angrily at her, glaring at her hand on his shoulder. She took it away reluctantly. “How did this happen? How could the Ministry and Hogwarts be so lax in security after what happened on the train? It took a kid to save my son’s life! His own goddamn rival, Potter! Do you know how that makes all of you look? You’re there to protect us, to protect our children—“

“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT,” Harry bellowed, tossing a cart on the floor furiously. “IT WASN’T JUST YOUR CHILD IN DANGER, MALFOY! I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE, SO DON’T JUST PUT IT ON ME!”

“Calm down, Harry. Don’t let him bait you.”

“Stay out of this, Weasley,” he snarled. “Should have told him to stop fucking married women instead!”

Harry closed his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath. Draco would bring that up now, being the selfish bastard he was. Ron gaped at him, but slowly sat down and looked away. He opened his eyes to look at Astoria, who had a deathly ill look on her face. Her son looked at her and then his father in confusion. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing,” his mother said shakily, standing up from the chair. “I’ll be by to check on you tomorrow, love.”

Scorpius looked at him and then at his mother in horror. “Mum, please tell me that it’s not what I think it is.”

She didn’t respond. She simply walked slowly out of the infirmary as Draco glared at him. Scorpius looked after her furiously before laying back down angrily, letting out a frustrated yell.  Jeremy looked away from him, down at his own hands. Harry stepped forward slowly before Ron stood back up and placed himself between them.

“Now is not the time for this,” Ron snapped, glaring at him.

Draco scowled at both of them before looking towards his son. “I’ll be back when they’re gone,” he said angrily, stalking out the room. He sat back down, putting a face to his hand.

“Well, this is pretty awkward.”

“That’s all we needed Jeremy. All we ask is that you don’t do anything that stupid again. You could have died. It’s up to us to protect you. And we’re sorry we failed both you and Scorpius,” Ron said calmly, patting him on the shoulder.

“You didn’t fail us. That thing couldn’t be hurt with magic. What were you going to do? No one was prepared,” he said incredulously. “You were just as powerless as I was, you know?”

“How’d you know what to do,” Harry asked him suddenly. Jeremy shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just knew. I didn’t really go in planning anything. Only had a couple of seconds until Malfoy would have been dead,” he replied stiffly, looking over at the bed he occupied.

“Well, despite being stupid, you’re a hero. Maybe even a future Auror.”

Jeremy smiled brightly. “You think so?”

Harry nodded, ruffling his hair affectionately. He just couldn’t help but like him. Ron was not amused however. He was eying him suspiciously. Slytherin prejudice would always be there with the Weasley family. “You’re definitely brave and dumb enough to be one. We got to get going.”

“Ugh, this is just perfect—COULD YOU LEAVE,” Scorpius snapped, putting a pillow over his head.

He rolled his eyes before he and Ron made it out the door. Roxanne leaned against the wall, tapping her foot impatiently. He didn’t know too much about Jeremy, but he knew he wasn’t as bad as he’d expect him to be. He had to applaud Pansy. He still managed to turn out not too bad. She pushed past them into the infirmary and Ron looked grumpy.

“Hermione will freak if she ends up being related to Pansy in any small shape or form,” he said with a frown. Harry shrugged.

“That’s life. Its jokes are very hilarious, but then again the joke is on us and we aren’t the ones meant to laugh.”

“That’s stupid, Harry.”

“Well you see what I’m doing with my own life.  Are you surprised to hear something stupid coming out of my mouth,” he replied with a grin. Dean shook his head and let out a deep breath. More than likely, he’d heard the commotion along with Roxanne. They made their way to the shack outside where the groundskeeper lived. He was waiting along with a bunch of other Aurors. He stood before them.

“What’s the report?”

“Several hundred students have been pulled from attendance. We finally got the reporters cleared out, but the Minister is facing some scrutiny from wizarding council members. Mrs. Weasley has already started the autopsy of the creature.”

They cast Bubblehead charms and entered the shack. He didn’t know when Hermione started doing stuff like that but he figured she’d do so after the animals were dead. She’d never gone through any muggle education where they usually dissected more animals in biology classes.

Perhaps she’d taken advance classes as a child. Whatever she knew, he was surprised about the organized manner she had its parts displayed. Along with some of its organs already removed, there were books scattered all over the place. Ron made a noise of disgust. She looked at him, unimpressed.

“I’m not too happy about doing it either, Ron, but as head of the department and considering the situation, it was best that it was me. Besides, no one else had the stomach for it. We’ve never had to do something like this before.”

“What is it?”

She shrugged. “Where do I start? It’s a combination of things. Its anatomy is complex, but mostly that of bat. And its muscle tissue is similar to a panther’s. There are unidentifiable parts of it. I’m guessing other animals at this point.”

Ron looked green as he stared at the organs reluctantly. “Is that two hearts?”

“Two hearts? Why would someone give it two hearts?”

She looked at them thoughtfully. “One might have been a decoy. It wasn’t as—hmm, I don’t know how to put it—I suppose as finished as the primary one, which was connected directly the wings.”

He and Ron shared a look. “Jeremy cut the wings off. Probably didn’t know that was a weak spot. Roxanne said it was getting ready to fly to get the advantage of attacking him before he jumped on it.”

“Whatever this is, the construction of it is in primary stages. It didn’t have time to get adjusted to every single part of itself.”

“So flying would have been harder to transition to as soon as he used muscles intended for another animal. Someone didn’t finish cooking it.”

“What a lovely way of putting it,” she said with a smirk, before waving her wand. Everything disappeared.

“Where’d you take it?”

“Oh, to the Ministry. I have more research to do. If it’s in its primary stage that means it’s being worked on. Another test.”

“Isn’t the US government always testing on things with animals and such?”

“Pharmaceutical companies are rumored to practice it. Why do you think the US government has anything to do with this,” she asked in alarm and shook her head. “Ron, that sounds ridiculous. You’re almost as terrible as those muggles who believe in UFOs.”

Ron pouted. “I’m not a conspiracy theorist.”

“It figures you’d know the term as well.”

“We have reason to believe that some pretty powerful people may have something to do with this.”

Hermione looked at him strangely and then at her husband incredulously. “You think the Ministry might be involved? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

“We didn’t say the Ministry—“

“Those are serious accusations!”

“Is it so out of reach that higher up officials aren’t corrupted in some shape or form? This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with corrupt Ministry officials, Hermione,” Ron snapped in annoyance. “And don’t say anything. We’re looking at all avenues. Remember that thing you carved up like a turkey might have hurt our children.”

She sighed and removed the charm from her head. “It’s just scary. If it’s true, we have an even bigger issue to deal with. That would mean they’d stop us from finding out the truth.”

“We know. We need you to keep it quiet.”

She nodded. “I’m going back to do more research. I don’t expect any of us to get any sleep tonight. Mr. Conspiracy Theorist, would you mind being the one to get us take-out,” she said brightly, leaving the hut. Ron turned red.

“Just pick up something light, Ron. Something from a deli,” Harry added with a smirk. His friend yelled after him as he exited.

“Why is everyone always picking on me?!”


	12. Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy gets closer to Roxanne and Scorpius voices his distaste of everything

Jeremy smiled softly at her as she entered the infirmary, rushing towards him and hugging him tightly. He grunted, still aching from his encounter with the monster that nearly killed him and Scorpius. She pulled away from him, kissing him eagerly on the lips. He laughed as she did so. Then she stared at him before she punched him pretty hard in the chest. He made a yelp of pain. He’d imagine being a Beater,  however, she held back quite a bit of her strength.

“What was that for?!”

“For being an idiot! You could have died! And you owed me a date, you silly bastard!”

“Someone had to do it,” he muttered, rubbing his chest.

“I’m not impressed, you know? I really care about you. It would have hurt if you’d passed.”

“You care about me? We hardly know each other.”

She shrugged, sitting on the bed. “You’ve been saving me since second year. I care because then who else save me from this and that,” she replied, motioning towards Scorpius who was pretending to be asleep.

“Judging by that punch, you don’t need me to save you. You probably could have killed that thing with your bare hands.”

She settled into his arms, beside him at the bed. He relaxed as they both stared at the ceiling in silence for a while. He couldn’t place what she smelled like then. He didn’t imagine her to be the type of girl who used potions to smell good. It was just naturally her. When he put his nose in her hair, however, it smelled sweet. She giggled. “Are you smelling my hair?”

“What? It smells good.”

“You’re a pervert.”

He smiled, pushing her hair to the side. His favorite part of her, after her face and her hair, was her neck. Long, nice, and clear of any blemishes. He would kiss it, but knowing that Scorpius was watching them he’d rather not start something they wouldn’t be able to finish. He ran his hand absently up and down her arms. “Speaking of your strength, how do you manage to look so girly and be so strong? I see a bit of muscle, but not that much.”

“My ex- boyfriend asked me the same question. And I told him that he sounded like a git asking me that.”

“We’ve established I’m not that bright.”

“Yes, we have. Alright, I’ll bite. Lots of strength training. Lifting weights and all that. Some of its natural, but when third year started and I wanted to be a Beater, they hadn’t wanted to let me on the team as a Beater.

“They told me I could be a Chaser. So when I owled my father about it, he sent me dumbbells with varying degrees of weight. He also sent me a book on Strength Training for Beaters, The Autobiography of Gwenog Jones, and a note that said _No daughter of mine is going to accept less than what she deserves_.

“Of course, my mum had been offended by it and later I got an owl adding _Chaser is good too, the forming bump on my head says so._ I worked hard for a whole year, refusing to try out for Chaser. My father trained me hard at home; I hated him for the whole summer. I went back to try my fourth year, as you know. They were still skeptical until I managed to hit the Keeper way on the other side of the field.”

“Inspirational story of a woman transitioning to a man,” Scorpius said loudly, his eyes closed shut. She shrugged and laughed.

 “Whatever you say, Malfoy.”

He sat up in his bed, glaring at both of them. “I come from a family where women are supposed to feminine, graceful, and petite.”

“Apparently you come from a family where men share the same attributes as the women,” Jeremy drawled. She turned her head to put it in his chest, laughing silently. He then said to her softly, “You’re one of the most feminine girls at his school. That’s why I was so surprised.”

She smiled up at him. “That’s the best part. I like people underestimating my strength. Makes me more of a surprise.”

“I bet you have a surprise tucked away somewhere between your legs.”

Jeremy sneered at him. “Don’t worry about what’s between her legs, arsehole.”

Scorpius snorted, lying back down. She rolled her eyes and kissed him on the lips. “I’m going to let you rest, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Please be safe and try not to do anything else stupid. Goodbye Malfoy,” she added pleasantly. He grunted in response. He glared at Scorpius as she left the room, daring him to say something else. He didn’t look back at him. He just stared at her walking out the door before turning away from it.

He raised an eyebrow, but settled back down into his bed starting to fall back asleep until he spoke again. “Why’d you save me, Buxton?”

“Go to sleep, Malfoy.”

“No really, what was your purpose is saving me? Was it to torture me; knowing that Mr. Perfect Buxton gave me a life debt?”

“Hmph, whatever you want to think.”

“Because nothing has changed. I don’t like you. May not hate you so much since you saved my arse, but I don’t have to like you. In fact, if the tables were turned, I would have left you there to rot.”

“Shocking. Absolutely shocked,” he replied with a yawn, hugging his pillow.

“I can’t stand you. Never could stand you. That was even before you hit me with that curse. Always had this self-righteous attitude and still have it; thinking you’re better than other Slytherins.”

“Is that what you think? That I thought I was better than other Slytherins,” he asked incredulously, sitting up in his bed. “All I wanted was to belong and not be treated like shite every time I came back. But no, you couldn’t give me that, Malfoy. You had to go out of your way to try to ruin me in every which way possible; including my relationship with Lorelei. So shut up and go to sleep. Leave me alone!”

He lied back down angrily, staring at the ceiling. “You know her family is never going to accept you, right?”

“So what? What do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“Good, mind your business and shut up.”

“Family is important, you know? You may not know that with a father that doesn’t love you and a slag for a mother.”

He got up from his bed, sitting on the side. He was waiting for one more moronic insult to come out of his mouth. He was going to give him a chance to redeem himself by keeping his mouth shut. “I’ll let it go with that one, Malfoy, knowing that you’re one to talk about slag mothers.”

“She didn’t do it! I don’t believe that shite!”

“If you don’t want me to bring it up, keep my mother out of your mouth.”

“My point is that their family is close. They are very close. That’s nothing you can understand because all you have is your mother. What do you know about family, Buxton? I never knew anything was wrong with my parent’s marriage because they didn’t let me know. They acted like parents.

“You know it’s not the same with your family. You heard the story she told about her father and mother. They support her and adore her. Good parents wouldn’t allow her to lower herself to be with people like you or m—,” he stopped then, shuffling his sheets.

“Me or who?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you—do you have a thing for Roxanne, Malfoy?”

“I don’t have a thing for blood traitors. That’s your thing.”

“Is that what this was about? You’ve been acting like a dick this whole time over a girl? A girl that would never give you the time of day—“

“And how do you know,” he snapped.

“You’re just jealous that she likes me and would never, ever even think of you in that way. She hates you, Malfoy.”

“She doesn’t hate me. I know that for a fact.”

He stared at him. “And how do you know?”

He sighed deeply. “I asked her out in fifth year. She told me she was flattered, but that she was dating Thomas.”

“I bet you insulted her because she turned you down. Your immaturity wouldn’t allow you to take it like a man.”

“You have no idea how much courage it took me to ask her out and to be humiliated by being turned down—“

“So you took it personally,” he replied incredulously. “You have many girls lapping at your feet, you idiot. Not everyone is going to fall for you.”

“Well, when she breaks your heart you tell me what you think of her then,” he muttered, lying back down.

“I bet she’s nice to you when you insult her. Despite not having any reason to be,” he said with a small smile, lying back in his own bed. She could have said anything about Scorpius. He’d noticed him always targeting her most out of the Potter and Weasley troop. He’d put his focus on every single one of them once in a while, but she would get the brunt of terrible insults, curses, and etc.

 He’d noticed she wasn’t that great when it came to casting defensive or offensive charms, so when Malfoy did try to hit her with something she never had a good defense for it. It seemed like she was more interested in Quidditch than anything else. She was always average when came to everything else magical but being a Beater.

He noticed sometime in the middle of fifth year he stopped trying to throw curses, jinxes, and hexes. The insults still came, but they stopped having less malice in them. Malfoy didn’t even talk about her to his friends anymore; just focusing on all the other Potters and Weasleys.

He almost didn’t hear what he said as he started to drift off, but he kept it in the back of his mind.

“That’s why I still like her so much.”

 

He was out of the infirmary after getting some more observation. Scorpius had left around the same time. They said nothing to each other as they walked out of the infirmary. Everything he’d said made him dislike him more. He didn’t regret saving his life, but he knew he and Scorpius would never get along no matter what the situation was. He could live with that fact. He entered the Great Hall for breakfast, ignoring the stares and whispers.

It was a little emptier than he’d expected at the Slytherin table. However, he could understand why there wouldn’t be that many Slytherin students present. Two children of past Slytherins; one of which had been a Death Eater and the other who had been the one Slytherin to insist their savior been handed over to Voldemort.  There were a lot of children and grandchildren of former Death Eaters that attended Slytherin. Half of the Slytherin table was gone.

He glanced around the other tables. Ravenclaws were next as the emptier tables, following Hufflepuffs and then the Gryffindors. He really didn’t pay attention to their table that much, but it look the fullest of all of them. Roxanne sat at it, playing with her food and disinterested in it. She finally looked up however and her face lit up. She gave him a small wave. Her cousins look in the direction and his eyes fell back down on his plate.

What if what Scorpius said was true? That her family would never accept him? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he made her turn against her family. Then he realized she never would because they came before him. They’d always come before him. His mother and perhaps even his father would come before her.

Maybe he was some great hero, saved her, and saved Scorpius. What then? He was still Henry Buxton’s son. He was the son of a greedy bastard who could have had something to do with his near death experience. The son of a woman that hated the Weasleys and in turn, they hated her.  He’d always have the last name Buxton and that name over his head. And if his father was doing what he thought he was doing, his name would be forever tarnished.

He looked back at her. She was laughing at something James had said and sneaking glances at him. She gave him a hopeful smile and he realized he didn’t really care. He wasn’t going to let it stop him from at least giving it a shot. They would probably eventually part because the differences were too far and in between. Or perhaps opposites attracted and that was what would make them work. If she could see something in him that was good and right, that should matter more than what anyone else thought of him.

He finished his breakfast, making his way out of the Great Hall and his back turned. She ran up beside him, grabbing his hand eagerly and kissing him on the cheek. He smiled back at her and they walked out.

“What’d your family say?”

“They’re not happy. I don’t think you want to hear exactly what they have to say. But good news is that James and Lily were nice about it.”

He sighed deeply. “Malfoy told me, you know.”

“About what? Oh god, did he tell you we dated? I’d imagine he’d do something vindictive like that.”

“You didn’t, did you? Please tell you didn’t,” he looked at her with worry. She laughed, shaking her head.

“No. He asked me out and I turned him down.”

“What did he say?”

“Called me a blood traitor and a bitch, then told me he wasn’t serious about it anyway. He took it a lot better than I expected.”

“What a twat.”

“I’ve been called worse by my cousins. They get fierce when we play Backyard Quidditch. I take great pleasure in their cries of pain.”

“He also told me that you were too good for me.”

“He did,” she asked in surprise. “That was nice of him.”

“You know he has a crush on you, don’t you?”

She shrugged, squeezing his hand. “I do. I realized it second year. Just like I knew you had a crush on me. Can’t help that I’m irresistible, Buxton. Must be the arse. I have a very nice arse.”

He pulled her closer, reaching for her arse. She pushed his hand away, but chuckled. “I wanted to find out.”

“You will. Eventually.”

“You mean you can give me a lap dance—“

“That was in private and not out for everyone to see! Being groped in public, I’m not a prostitute,” she replied, sticking her tongue at him. He kept his hand wrapped around her waist. It felt nice.

“Is that why you’re so nice to him,” he asked thoughtfully. She looked at him.

“I wouldn’t say I’m nice to him. I just ignore him. I hurt his pride by turning him down. I knew that would happen. I can be polite to him, which I think is just common courtesy I try to give everyone. There’s no reason to respond to his insults. I don’t take them personally because I know why he’s doing it.”

“Oh.”

“Were you worried that I might switch to Malfoy,” she asked in amusement, pausing.

“I hope I don’t have to worry about that. We haven’t even started dating officially yet.”

“I’m not interested in Malfoy.”

“Would you have turned him down if you hadn’t been dating Thomas?”

“Probably. I don’t know. It depends on what mood I was in. If I was in a mood to be treated like a walking piece of sexual meat, I may have. Or if I had been in a mood to have a laugh at how terribly awkward it would be. I just don’t see it. I don’t see it at all.”

“You told him you were flattered.”

“I’ve turned down plenty of guys and told them I was flattered.”

“But did you mean it with him?”

“You are really worried about this aren’t you,” she said, stopping in a hallway. There were completely alone. Classes were out for that day. From what he knew, there’d also be no more Quidditch that season. It was suspended.

“I just like honesty.”

“If I answer honestly, try not to be too jealous.”

“I knew I wouldn’t like the answer.”

“Scorpius is very handsome. And he’s intelligent when he isn’t being an immature dickhead. He just doesn’t approach any girl. His standards are very high. And usually, he is strictly Ravenclaw and Slytherin. So was I flattered? Yes.”

“He isn’t handsome at all,” he muttered, examining his own nails.

“There is no chance in hell I’d date him.”

“Because of your family?”

“No, because Scorpius is a narcissistic prat who thinks he’s prettier than me. There’s only room for one in my relationship,” she said haughtily, making him chuckle. She smiled at him, touching his face.

“I’m worried about your family.”

“Don’t be. That’s my job to handle. Your job is to be my hot hero boyfriend and look great on my arm.”

“But—“

“But nothing. Whatever Malfoy told you, whatever the papers say, who cares? Stop worrying about what people will say and let’s just try it out. See what happens. Then you can blame my family later for destroying it.”

He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. “Can I touch you anywhere?”

“Please do,” she replied as they kissed and embraced passionately.


	13. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy has a violent confrontation with Henry and a startling discovery about the ritual is revealed

Pansy didn’t remember ever coming to the Ministry. She’d assumed that perhaps she and Henry had visited it while she was drunk out of her skull with no memory of the incident whatsoever.  She’d suspected a Memory charm, but Henry really had had no reason to cast one. They didn’t know each other when they’d married. When she knew she married him, she wasn’t happy but when going to her parents for help, they dismissed her and welcomed Henry to the family. Two weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant with Jeremy and she had surrendered to her situation.

He’d returned home two days after news had gotten out about Scorpius. They ignored each other. He went straight to his office, got hammered, and she could have sworn she could hear a woman giggling behind the door. She really didn’t care. She’d cared at first when she’d discovered him in bed with some fat redheaded cunt who looked like a walking disease, but only because they’d been sleeping together. They hadn’t slept together in years. She preferred it that way.

When they did have a chance to speak, he’d finally sat down to have dinner with her while glaring at her periodically. He finally spoke to her.

“Someone I know who works at St. Mungo’s saw you sitting with him.”

Well that’s new, she thought in dark amusement. “He was supporting me as a friend.”

“I don’t care about you having sex with him. I’ve known for quite a bit. But I’d rather you not flaunt it in public like a common whore. ”

“Oh,” she replied, chewing on her pasta. To hell with what everyone thought. They already looked like the worse people imaginable. Her letting Blaise stick it in her as public knowledge should have been the last of his worries.

“I trust your son is okay,” he said. She glanced up at him and noticed a horrible smirk on his face.

“ _Our_ son is fine.”

“Your son, Pansy. Always been your son. You made sure he was your son,” he snapped angrily.

“Okay. He’s my son. He’s my son because you haven’t taken any interest—“

“Fuck him and fuck you, you disrespectful bitch.”

She picked up her plate and threw it towards him. It crashed in front of his face and all over his food. “You tried to kill him didn’t you?! You fucking bastard. YOU BARBARIC SON OF A BITCH!”

He rushed towards her and she grabbed a steak knife off the table. Her wand was nowhere near. She went to stab him as he came at her but he grabbed her arm, punched her in the face and shoved her against the wall. She clawed at his face furiously, kneeing him in the groin. He made a grunt of pain but still managed to wrap his hands around her throat. She gasped for breath, trying unsuccessfully to pry his hands from around her throat. They ended up on the floor and he grabbed harder. She felt herself beginning to fade. But she wouldn’t leave Jeremy alone to face him. She refused to do so. She brought her thumbs up and pushed them into his eyes. He screamed shrilly, letting go of her neck as she could feel one digging into his left eye. She scrambled from underneath him, kicking his hand away and accidentally kicking him in the face as he tried to grab her. He ran after her. Fat bastard moved faster than she expected.

She scrambled up the stairs towards her room, searching the drawer frantically for her wand. He more than likely hid it, planning to kill her. She planned for the day it’d come to this. She instead went on; searching for the card she had managed to turn into a Portkey that took her to the Ministry. He was close.

“YOU’RE GOING DIE, MY DEAR! AND NO ONE IS GOING TO CARE BUT YOUR PATHETIC WIMP OF A SON! DON’T WORRY! HE’LL BE JOINING YOU SOON!”

He’d lost his mind. She started to pull shoes quickly from the bed and finally, she found it. The door opened and she grabbed it as shouted out the incantation, landing right on the Ministry steps. She laid there for a while, ignoring the incredulous stares she received.

She went to Harry Potter’s office, ignoring the questions of concern as she passed various officials on her way into the elevator. She could hear arguments behind the door. No silencing charm? How lazy Potter, she thought with a smile.

“—have time for this Malfoy! We’re trying to figure what’s going on!”

“Would you two please stop?! This has been going on for thirty minutes. You sound like children,” Weasley admonished. She was even glad to hear her voice of reason. Cursed be the day she’d be glad to hear that.

“I have to agree with the quite attractive Mrs. Weasley—“

“Zabini, what happened to blood traitors? Or what about ‘Mudbloods’ as you put it?”

“At my age, I can’t afford to be picky with women.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“It’s supposed to mean your wife is hot.”

She could hear Ronald Weasley's sputter. “You stay away from my wife!”

“Well, you said it best. I’m only attracted to married women.”

“Ron, don’t fall for it,” his wife replied in a tired tone.

“Don’t listen to her. We’ve shared looks. It’s going to happen.”

She opened the door, laughing a deep dark laugh she didn’t recognize from herself. All of them stared at her in confusion, then in shock. She looked at her clothes. There was blood. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and winced as she felt it split.  And she could start feel blood seep from her head. Her laugh got louder. Blaise came towards her quickly.

“What happened?”

“If you sleep with Weasley, I’ll kill you,” she said, gasping for breath and holding her stomach.

“Pansy, love,” he said softly, cradling her face and checking her with concern. She stopped, staring at him. She started to sob and grasped his shirt.

“It was him,” she sobbed. “He tried to kill him, Blaise. And he’s going to try to him again. He’s going to try killing him and me. He tried to kill me tonight.”

“I see you gave him quite the fight,” he said with a small smile. She laughed through her sobbing.

“I made him blind in one eye.”

“That’s my ruthless, cruel Slytherin woman. Stay here,” he said softly, kissing her on the forehead. She grabbed at him weakly as he started to walk out the door. Draco ran up, standing in front of him.

“Don’t be stupid, Zabini.”

“I’m not going to kill him. I’m just going to cut his hands off. Maybe remove his other eye.”

“Wait! Don’t do it! You may end up kissing him if you do!”

“What,” Blaise asked him in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing, just stay here and relax while we figure out what to do. Weasley, you do healing spells well don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hermione said softly, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bathroom. Things had gone full on weird by the point. It shouldn’t have been happening. However, what choice did she have now? She was in trouble; in real trouble. Whatever happened at school couldn’t matter anymore. She winced as Hermione examined her face.

“I know you don’t feel great about doing this,” she said, sniffing loudly. Hermione looked at her seriously.

“Terrible memories tend to die hard but you’re a woman that nearly got killed by her husband. Doesn’t matter much now, does it? Looks like your nose is broken, your neck is bruised, and you have a nasty bump forming. You may have to go to St. Mungo’s.”

“Oh Merlin—do I have to go? He knows people there, people that would more than likely love to do any kind of favors for him knowing his bottomless pit of a Gringotts account.”

She looked at her disapprovingly, but cast a couple of charms. “I don’t have the potion for your head. Simple ice for your head until I can call up for it.”

“Okay,” she muttered, offering a small smile. “Thanks—Her—her—Weasley.”

She laughed. “We’ll start slow, Pansy. I’ll leave you alone for a bit. You’re safe.”

She spent a couple of minutes in the bathroom by herself, cleaning herself up the best she could and fixing her hair. Still frizzy. Always frizzy. She snarled as she smoothed it as best as possible before Blaise came in with the ice pack. He hugged her tightly.

“He’s not going to come near you again. Potter sent some Aurors to the school and another set to go retrieve him. You’ll be staying with me.”

“He’s not going to stay in. His lawyers are excellent,” she muttered.

“That’s why if he tries anything, I’ll castrate him with my bare hands.”

“That’s disgusting. But it’s the thought that counts,” she said with a smirk, kissing him on the lips.

They went back into the office as Harry Potter stood behind his desk. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s missing. Probably panicked, realizing you’d come here.”

“Fantastic,” she said with a shrug, taking the ice pack off her head. “Maybe he rolled himself into a bouncy ball and went out the roof—stupid, disgusting blob of man. What’s this?”

She stared at the pages that were lined up in a semi-circle in the office. They looked quite old and she could smell it; as well as the dust. She sneezed, rubbing her nose as she walked closer. They were pages from a pureblood ritual handbook. She’d come across a newer copy in the Restricted Section when she was a girl. The spells were still pretty brutal, but it was heavily edited. Her father wouldn’t keep it in their house. A small smile grew on her face. If her father was alive and had known what Henry tried to do, the Aurors wouldn’t have found him anyway.

“You’re trying to find out the exact ritual Henry used.”

“Yes.”

She tried to remember what she could recall about reading the books. Hermione tilted her head for a moment. “Someone at St. Mungo’s provided the blood for the ritual that went after Scorpius. Who could have gotten a hold of the medallion?”

“We have business gatherings every so often. It could have been anyone. I’ve always been careless with that bloody thing. Scorpius was there for a Healer checkup—do you have the medallion Potter?”

He tossed it to him and he muttered a charm. Pansy looked back at the papers. There was something about werewolves being summoned. There were hundreds of pages. “It’s his blood. They used his blood.”

“But that couldn’t have been part of the summons. That thing isn’t in the records. I’ve searched them twice already.”

“Why would they go after Scorpius?”

She turned to look at them. Draco and Blaise shared a look. “What is it,” she asked.

“We didn’t even think about it until now. There is something. Something Blaise is working on.”

“A new project while we’re investigating you, Zabini,” Ron Weasley asked incredulously.

“I’ve been working on it for five years now, you twat,” he snapped. “I planned on selling it to the Ministry. It’s unfinished though. And we showed it to—shit, we showed it to Buxton. He was one of the investors interested.”

“What does it do,” Hermione asked.

“If you throw it in an area, it can trace people, magical activity, and everything that had been done in the area. Sort of like a fingerprint or one of those muggle blacklights used to find traces of fluid. It’s a variation of Prior Incantenum on a larger scale. Potion works by throwing it in the intended area.”

Hermione looked at him in amazement. “That’s—that would change everything! That would make it easier for us to trace dark magic—“

“Told you Weasley. The way she’s looking at me.”

“Shut up,” Ron mumbled miserably.

“—make it easier for us to put up protection against almost anything! Perhaps even show traces of what made that thing.”

“That’s what I’m trying. But it isn’t done. It’s far from done.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Harry said softly. “Why Jeremy then? Yes, he tried to kill him, but why at the school? Why try to cause panic in that way?”

“Werewolf,” Pansy said softly. “How do you highlight the pages that might have something about just werewolves?”

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows before saying. “Reveal word werewolves and werewolf,” she said waving her wand. A smaller amount of pages glowed, but there were still a lot. She went closer to them. Blood. Specific blood. Foreign blood. Something Henry had said. _Your son. You made him your son. Your son._

“Weasley, highlight the pages that contain werewolf and foreign blood.”

She did so and there was one page, she stared at it for a moment. “What is it,” Hermione asked.

“What—no can’t be possible,” Pansy said slowly, pulling the page and staring at it. Why would he do this? What would possess him to do this? It shouldn’t have worked. She didn’t understand.

“Pater est quem nuptiae demonstrant.”

“What,” Blaise and Draco said in unison.

“Why?”

“That’s a paternity ritual,” Hermione asked in confusion.

“It only works if the blood is foreign. He suspected Jeremy wasn’t his. I don’t understand. Why would he think that?”

Blaise looked bewildered for a long while before stuttering. “Pansy—we slept together.”

She looked at him incredulously. “When Jeremy was conceived?! No, no I don’t remember that. I hadn’t slept with you before that party.”

“We slept together twice before you got married, Pansy! How could you not remember? You don’t remember that?”

She looked at him blankly, wondering if it was a sick joke of his and shook her head. No, no it wasn’t possible. If it was possible, that would mean she’d gone through nearly two decades married to Henry for nothing. It had all been for nothing. It hit her terribly, making her chest hurt. Tears started to flow from her eyes. “No.”

“Pansy—“

“NO,” she screamed, putting her hands to her ears. She felt like vomiting. All that wasted time. What her son had gone through all those years and what she had had to put up with. Why couldn’t she remember?

“Calm down,” he said in horror, shaking her shoulders.

“It was all for nothing! I married him for nothing! I put Jeremy’s in life in danger every single day, for nothing,” she said angrily, shoving him furiously. She fought with him weakly before he grabbed her wrists. She tried to pull away again. “Why didn’t you come to me and tell me?!  WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK ME IF HE WAS YOUR SON?!”

He gulped as he stared down at her with confusion and guilt. “What do you want from me, Pansy? How did you want me to react knowing that you married someone? You told me that you wanted to date and then I get an owl announcing the marriage to him! I just assumed Jeremy was his when I found out you were pregnant!”

“No! No, I never told you that! It never happened!”

He let go of her wrists. “It did! Pansy it happened! I can show you! But you need to calm down!”

“He’s your son,” she whispered, throwing the ice pack angrily away from her. It did her no good. He never looked anything like Henry. And when she thought back, he never looked much like his grandfather either. He was so different from her, from Henry. Why hadn’t she realized it? What had happened?

He sighed deeply. “It turns out he is. Unless you’re hiding some kind of sordid sex life—“

“Don’t FUCKING joke about this Blaise! He knows Jeremy is your son! He’s going to try to kill your son!”

“He’s not going to kill him because I’m not going to let that happen,” he said calmly, pulling her closer. “Calm down and we’re going to figure it out.”

“I can’t believe this! This can’t be happening,” she said in frustration and anger.

There was a long silence before Draco said, “Well that explains the weakness for unavailable and unpleasant women.”

“Shut up, Draco,” Blaise murmured, still hugging her. “So, I guess that’s it then.  He wanted to know if Jeremy was my son and used the werewolf to find out. Then he was going to kill him as a warning to me. When it didn’t work, he went after Scorpius.”

“How does it connect to the Reveal Movement?”

“Malfoy, was that an insult towards my niece,” Ron asked angrily.

“Took you that long huh, Weasley? That’s a record.”

“Children, attention to the front of the class,” Hermione snapped. “We’re trying to connect the dots.”

“She’s a beautiful, sweet, and talented girl!”

“She’s a girl who is a Beater. Women are supposed to have feminine, graceful, and petite qualities.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s best just to ignore them and get back to adult conversation.”

“Ha! Are you talking about female qualities or your own, Malfoy?”

“The illegal potion trades started back nearly a year ago. That was when we started monitoring Malfoy, Zabini, and Buxton,” Harry said softly, floating files to the table in the middle of his room. He spread out the activities across the globe and pointed to a certain document. She leaned over to look at it.

“That meeting we had with Buxton two years prior. The potion was still in the beginning stages. Come to think of it, getting the ingredients for testing became more difficult. We know Buxton is mostly motivated by money. And we know powerful illegal potions probably go for a lot of money.”

“Are you interested Weasley,” Draco said with a leer. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“If you two are going to shag each other, leave the room to do so. If not, shut up,” Pansy snapped. She pointed at the spike in activity. “He traveled to America around that time. I don’t buy it. Henry can’t be a major player in this. Maybe he’s a just a low level pawn.”

“Pawn,” Ron said absently, and then rushed to the table. “Henry Buxton is the pawn! He’s the first move! He’s connected to the so called ‘bishop’ and ‘queen’, but in small way. That would explain why he wouldn’t be behind the trade or have any traces of the trade in his inventory. He could be just a small player trying to offer his services or maybe a messenger. Whatever he is, he’s the beginning movement.”

“That means even if we stop him, it’s not going to stop the movement. What’s next?”

“Now we’re looking for the bishop and queen. Horton Phillips may be the bishop. Does anybody know what Horton Phillips specializes in?”

Hermione rummaged through the papers, coming across his files. “He specializes in potions.”

“He’s running the trade,” Harry concluded, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shite, that’s bad.”

“Why wouldn’t he represent the queen,” Blaise asked in confusion.

“We think the US government, a high official in the Ministry, or some other prominent figure represents the ‘queen’. Henry made the first move by maybe providing information about the ingredients. Horton Phillips or maybe some pureblood figure in the movement jumped started the illegal trade to probably gather resources for a future attack.”

“We didn’t even think about the ‘king’,” Ron said. “There’s a ‘king’ to be captured. What do you think it represents? The bishop and queen are going to unite soon. Whoever the queen is.”

“We need to find out fast. We’ll do most of our research here, but we have to make sure that the children at Hogwarts are safe before we send out spies to track the activity in the US. I’d say after the wedding.”

“Oh you and Draco are finally tying the knot? How sweet Potter,” Pansy said with a sneer. Hermione sniggered and she looked at them, surprised at the deathly pale expressions on their face. Harry looked as if he was going to throw up and Draco looked horrified.

“Why would you say that?”

“It was a joke.”

“Ginny’s wedding,” Harry snapped, looking back down at the papers and cursing under his breath. She and Blaise shared a look, and then both slowly looked at Draco who looked everywhere but at them. Hermione and Ron remained clueless. Pansy started to giggle hysterically.

“Shut up,” Draco snarled. She bit her lip, trying to stop herself from smiling and shrugged. It was nice to know his life wasn’t all peachy either. Possibly in the running with her twisted issues.

“We need rest. Hermione, how’s the outlook on that thing you were studying?”

She was staring absently at the papers. It almost looked as if she wasn’t there for a moment. She looked up blankly. “What?”

“The thing you performed an autopsy on. How is it?”

She shook her head funnily. “Oh—um—still couldn’t identify the other parts. I’m a bit worried. These potions may be used to create them. I don’t quite like the idea of our children being used as test subjects. They’re adjusting these things.”

“And if magic can’t defeat them—“

“Muggle weapons can.”

“We can’t count on that,” Blaise said in frustration. “If they’re updating these things, that means they’re going to be tougher to kill. We have to find out where and how they’re making them. Can you think of anything magical?”

“I’m too tired. I have to get some rest. If you the three don’t mind doing independent research.”

“They’re not done. Henry’s not done. I have no choice,” Pansy said, sighing. “I’m going to sleep and help you go through the Ministry library. I’ll be safe here and at Blaise’s in the meantime.”

“Looks like you’ll be going to that meeting in Russia by yourself, Draco.”

“I can handle it. I’ll keep my ears open,” he said with a shrug. “It has been absolute hell being stuck two days in a room with these three eternal Gryffindors. Their taste in food is predictably terrible. If I have to do this again, I’m picking.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want you going near anything I have to eat.”

“What about Blaise? He’s trustworthy. He won’t wank in it. At least he doesn’t anymore. I couldn’t trust him for years.”

“What?”

“Weasley, it was a joke,” Blaise said witheringly.

“Oh. Well, I guess.”

“Should we do something stupid like hold hands in a circle?”

“No,” Harry said vehemently.


	14. Potter Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look in the twisted mind of Blaise Zabini and things hit the fan with Astoria, Draco, and Harry

Blaise hesitated in turning on the lights. She glanced around. He was such a pig. He knew he was a pig. She kicked around clothes in distaste, trying to look for a suitable place to sit. She finally opted on the couch as he had the decency to look embarrassed.

“I’ve been out and about. Extremely busy.”

“You know what happens when I’m never at home, Blaise? It stays clean. Pristine. Nothing is touched. Did you give the place a literal spin before leaving to go wherever you go?”

He pouted childishly, kicking a jumper in the air. “Don’t be difficult. I’m not used to having company.”

“Why don’t you just borrow the house elves, Blaise?”

“They take a wage now and I can’t be bothered to pay it. Also no, not until she admits that she’s overreacting about me—“

“Screwing everything that moves, refusing to get married, and not provide an heir for your estate?”

“Well I have one now,” he said uncomfortably. She shook her head.

“I can’t remember anything. Absolutely nothing. I just got drunk for one night. Maybe he performed a Memory charm on me. But why? We didn’t even know each other.”

“Maybe your parents talked him into it. We had sex in your bed. In your house. They caught us.”

“They did? Oh Merlin—that sounds like something you would talk me into doing.”

Blaise shoved some clothes aside, sitting next to her. “I think Jeremy looks like my father.”

“He does? I never saw a picture of your father. You have a picture of your father that your mother willingly gave you?”

“I stole it from her room. A poor house elf got tortured for it. I think it’s around here somewhere—Accio Dante!”

“Your father’s name was Dante?! Dante Zabini?!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“He must have been a slag like you!”

“Hey!”

“It just sounds like he could be taking cash for sex.”

He handed the picture to her as he studied it himself. His mother never talked about his father nor did she discuss any of her other husbands. He’d never ask questions either. She hadn’t intended to have him, but there were rumors that his own father had children all over the world. That thought horrified him. Luckily, the funds he’d been left by his unfortunate father were left for him and only him. When he’d been a boy, he’d imagined that maybe she loved him so much that she couldn’t stand his affairs with numerous women and killed him in a fit of passion. Then he realized his mother was just a crazy bitch that took pleasure in making her husbands’ disappear. That was what he feared; marrying someone just like his mother.

His father had been handsome and he resembled him slightly, but not as much as he resembled his mother. Like Jeremy was to Pansy, he was to his mother. However, while Pansy showed her son a genuine mother’s love, his mother was much colder. She’d spoiled him, showed him around when he was cute and grew into a handsome man, but she’d never really said I love you. He got plenty of creepy hugs from her though.

Jeremy looked like a mixture of him, his father, and Pansy. He had ignored him as he grew up. He’d been a reminder as to why his mother would never be his. He’d stared at him once when he and Pansy were in Diagon Alley. He wondered if he could be his and if Pansy had kept it from him knowingly all that time. Too many years had been wasted with the games they played with each other.

He studied the picture along with Pansy. He had his grandfather’s olive completion, Blaise’s bone structure and height, and Pansy’s hair and eyes. “He does look a little bit like him. I wish I would have seen this long ago,” Pansy said with a deep sigh, leaning into Blaise.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a father. I’m a very selfish person. I’m starting to not like the fact that you’re on my couch and in my flat. Because mine.”

“Darling, you haven’t tried to kill him. You’re already a lot better than Henry.”

“Jeremy hates me.”

“Jeremy doesn’t know you. He thinks Henry is his father. He thinks a man that hates him is his father. How am I going to tell him that you’re his father? Can you imagine that conversation?”

“Maybe we should wait to tell him. All this stuff happening.”

“Or maybe we can tell him together, in person.”

“That is the worse idea you’ve ever had, Pansy.”

“We should do it before Christmas! In fact, let’s do it before Christmas break so that we won’t ruined it!”

“I can imagine that conversation around the dinner table. It wouldn’t be pleasant dinner conservation.”

“I want to do it. And we’re going to do it. So shut up.”

“You seem a little more accepting that I’m his father.”

“I’m just relieved. I’m also still disgusted I stayed married to him. If I would have remembered, I wouldn’t have stayed. I’m going to take all of his money now. Leave him penniless.”

“You don’t need his money. I have plenty.”

“It’s the principal of the matter. He’s going to go to Azkaban and I’m going to take it all. Then announce publicly that we’re a married couple.”

He looked at her in amusement. “We’re getting married?”

“We’d better get married. We have to fix the mistake made years ago. Should have proposed to me when you found out I was pregnant—“

“When I found out you were married, I left for Italy to drown myself in booze and women. I would’ve stayed there if Draco wouldn’t have found me and told me that I dodged a bullet.

“He told me to grow up and that he’d enter into the business with me. Jeremy was already one when we met again at the party. I was majorly pissed that you were ignoring me like nothing happened.  Now I know why.”

“Hmph,” she said angrily, crossing her arms. “Draco is such a bastard. Speaking of which—“

“I’m staying out of it. As you should.”

“But Harry Potter, Blaise! He’s buggering Harry Potter!”

“Staying. Out. Of it.”

“I thought Harry Potter was sleeping with Astoria?! When did he get to Draco? How does that work?!”

“There’s always a possibility Draco is doing it on purpose to get back at her.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. That would make him insane.”

“Well, duh,” he muttered, looking at his watch. “We should go to bed.”

“As his friend, as his best friend—“

“Ugh—“

“You should talk to him about it. It’s destructive, you know? Him sleeping with Potter, Potter sleeping with his wife, and etc.”

“He will destroy both of us.”

“We’ll take his wand.”

“You and Draco dislike each other! Why do you want to help him now?”

“We can’t have an unstable Draco, or worse, an unstable Harry Potter trying to uncover some big war plot.”

She had a point. Draco had become increasingly irritable whenever they tried to talk business. When he asked about Astoria, he’d get angry and ask him if he wanted to join the Astoria Sex Club with Harry Potter. That was the big reveal of the affair. The suspected sexual relationship that was unintentionally revealed in the office was a whole other matter. That was a shitstorm Blaise wasn’t able to handle. Hadn’t it been one of Draco’s nightmares? Or had he lied and it been a dream? Maybe he was wrong and thinking about a nightmare of his. No, that nightmare involved Ronald Weasley. He kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll think about. Let’s go to bed. My room is clean.”

“It’d better be.”

 

He wasn’t used to his new schedule. So used to going to work, bossing people around, and disappearing in his own lab to work on his special project. His special project was indefinitely suspended by Hermione Weasley’s suggestion. It would have to be until they figured out all the pieces in the games (as her husband  put it). Then there was Pansy, who was an annoying morning person who had cleaned his flat. He didn’t even know Pansy knew the definition of manual labor.  She started to wake up at 7 am sharp every morning. One morning, she set breakfast in front of him.

“I never said yes to marriage. This feels too much like marriage.”

“Shut up and eat Zabini.”

“This is healthy food.”

“You’re in your 40s.”

“I’m a man! A man that likes meat!”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” she replied in amusement.

“I didn’t even know I had health food in my fridge.”

“Blaise, would you just eat it?”

He shoved it in his mouth reluctantly. “It tastes alright. I cook better.”

She glared at him, stood up from the table, and tossed the whole plate of food in his lap before disappearing into the bedroom. He sat there grumpily, taking her plate and eating what she had left while he listened to the shower turn on. After taking a shower himself, he escorted her to the Ministry and went to their potions factory. Expense reports showed an unsatisfactory rise in profit in comparison to what they spent.  And because of something that Draco did, their suppliers were overcharging them. He contacted Draco by Floo.

“Have you seen this shite?”

“Yes—I’m handling it—“

“I let you handle expenses and this is what happens!”

“It’s not that big of deal.”

“We lost $500,000 in a day, Draco! How does that happen? Did you even contact the suppliers about the discrepancies in the prices? Check the market to compare prices on ingredients? Any-fucking-thing!?”

“Why don’t you do it,” he snapped.

“I would do it if I wasn’t going over inventory, running human resources, setting up export and import, and going on meetings by myself for the past four damn months!”

“I have a meeting to go to. Fuck you,” Draco snapped, breaking the connection. He glared at the fireplace before getting back to work. He didn’t want to speak to the Potion Masters. They were cranky; uncharacteristically so. They glared at him as he reluctantly went downstairs. He stopped in front of the large vat of Portman Jenson, Head Potions Master.

“What did he do,” he asked glumly.

“He ordered horse hair instead of unicorn hair for the Wrinkles-Be-Gone potion.”

“Ffff—tell me you didn’t mix any in the vats.”

“We didn’t, but because he told us to go ahead and he’d fix the order, we went ahead and started. We never got the unicorn hair. The potion has been sitting for a day.”

He tried to stop himself from tearing his own face off. “Okay. So that’s like—that’s $100,000 worth of ingredients down the drain. Portman, you’re competent. Order the ingredients from my expense account. Oh and do me a favor: ask one of the apprentices to try the Frizz Control with an added ingredient. Try newt spleens.”

“I don’t think Mr. Malfoy would like us messing with his recipe.”

“Well, he surely messed with our budget. He can deal with us messing with his recipe by adding one BLOODY ingredient. Sorry, not aimed at you,” he finished awkwardly. There were other small things; thankfully nothing else gigantic on his part. It was just erratic behavior that made employees nervous. And while nothing had ever been perfect, they’d never bled money so quickly. If he’d known sooner that Draco getting buggered in the arse by Harry Potter was going to ruin their business, he would have murdered them both long ago to protect his pockets.

When he finally made it to the Ministry, he found Pansy with about a dozen books in front of her. “Draco Malfoy must die. He must die a horrible death.”

“Told you about Potter,” she said calmly, still looking in the books.

“Should I confront Potter about it?”

“I wouldn’t. Astoria is in the office. I walked in and they were having a lover’s quarrel. Kind of hoped Draco would pop in and catch them. Hey Blaise, Hermione Weasley seems a bit off to you, don’t you think? Think she’s messing around or something?”

“Have you seen her husband? Heard him talk? I wouldn’t be shocked. But I don’t care about this. I’m going to confront them.”

“Ooh, let me come.”

He burst into the office and to his absolute delight; all three of them were in the office. An added bonus was the Weasley couple. They didn’t look completely horrified, just disappointed and embarrassed, which meant that they hadn’t even found out about Draco and Harry. It was a bad idea to stick his nose in it, but he would be damned if Draco let his personal life ruin the business they’d built up from nothing and turned into something that mattered to him. It was something that mattered to him a lot.

Pansy stood by the door, shutting the door behind them. He put the silencing charm on it. “Oh wow, this is just going to be better than I thought.”

“Okay, this needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Ron said with a nod.

“Don’t make me say it Draco.”

“Blaise—“

“You may think that this business is just more important to you because you have somewhat of a more complete family and a terrible reputation. But it’s my baby too, Draco. I worked hard on it too. I sacrificed many of nights when I could have been having sex rather than smelling like fish guts and smoke.”

“If you say it,” Draco warned.

“If you threaten me—“

“Fine! Fine! Astoria, Draco and I—we’ve been…we’ve been intimate.”

His eyes fell on Hermione and Ron for reactions. Hermione only looked at Ron, who looked as if he were going to shoot off into the air and explode. “You’re kidding. You can’t be serious. Wait, what?!”

Astoria stared at both of them incredulously. “Why? What? Why? WHY?!”

“In my defense, I was trying to kill him—“

“So I guess you just found him sexy and had to have at it? Remind me to never get in a physical fight with you,” Blaise said with a sneer. Draco gave him a look that could have beheaded him.

“You were trying to kill him,” Hermione asked in disbelief. “Harry, when did he try to kill you?”

“Four months ago in my flat.”

“You let him in your flat? Wait…he tried to kill you and you had sex with him?! Is this first time he tried to kill you and you had sex with him!? Did it happen during the battle at Hogwarts? Oh god, how’d you manage that—were me and Hermione close by,” Ron asked in disbelief, sitting on the floor and completely missing the chair that was nearby.

“Stop,” Astoria choked out, starting to cry. “How could you do this?”

Draco looked at her incredulously. “Are you asking that? Are you actually asking me that? I should have asked you that! Why Potter? Why at all? Why would you fuck him and make me believe that you still loved me?!”

“I love you!”

“Really? You have a real brilliant way of showing it.”

“Oh and you do? Excuse me, Draco; you’re HAVING SEX WITH THE MAN I WAS HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH!”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you wouldn’t have started this affair nonsense in the first place!”

“I just—I’m not going to talk about this here!”

“I need to know this is going to stop,” Blaise said angrily. Ron nodded.

“You definitely have to stop this. It’s just wrong!”

“I never knew you to be homophobic, Weasley.”

Ron turned red. “I am not homophobic, Buxton!”

“I really need to get that name change ASAP,” she said glumly.

Hermione whistled sharply. “This is madness. Draco, go home and talk to your wife, please. Harry, we need to have talk. Blaise and Pansy, leave right now!”

“But it’s not fair,” Pansy replied in annoyance as Blaise dragged her out of the office.

 

Pansy walked into Harry Potter’s office with a book, yawning profusely. He’d been sitting there, reading up on rarer potion’s ingredients along with Hermione while Ron and Harry did their research on Horton Phillips. Draco hadn’t been back in two weeks and wouldn’t be coming back. Both he and Astoria were staying far away from Harry Potter.

 They’d come up with two other names: Rupert Adams and Gerry Tolks; purebloods that had joined Phillips movement. Rupert was a member of the US Congress. She placed the book in front of them.

“This practice hasn’t been done in almost a millennium. If this is actually what is being done, a war between muggles and the wizarding world is the least of our problems”

He grabbed the book and started to read it aloud. “In 999 AD, practitioners of Sanguis vita est began sadistic blood sacrifices of wizarding children to Abigor, the Grand Duke of Hell, to receive aid in a war against non-magical citizens of Europe. The plea was in retaliation to the seven year-long massacre implemented by an unidentified secret society that hunted witches and wizards. The warriors summoned were non-identifiable severely mutated beasts.

“When the warriors began to kill indiscriminately, a powerful coven that consisted of five elemental witches and wizards formed to undo the damage done by the Sangius vita est. In the two decades that followed, establishing pureblood families began to send the demonic creatures to do their biddings. The coven had long disbanded and separated the elemental book into four parts: earth, air, fire, and water.

“An unnamed witch took the blood ritual books from the families and separated them, scattering them into millions of pieces across the earth. As a result, when the demons were summoned, they were incomplete and destructible. These practices were outlawed in 1101 AD.”

They stared at the book in stunned silence. Hermione let out a whimper. “Hell demons? We’re dealing with hell demons?”

“We’ve dealt with demons before.”

“Weasley, these aren’t ordinary low level demons we deal with. These demons don’t respond to magic, trappings and some of them don’t even respond to muggle weapons. If they’re let loose, no one is safe.”

“What kind of moron would do this? Oh wait, my husband probably would.”

“But the system of that—thing I looked at wasn’t just a demon! This thing has been tampered with!”

“What did I say? The US government or someone is experimenting; splicing animal parts together!”

“Ron, please stop,” Hermione groaned in frustration.

Blaise was about to make a comment about how that phrase was more than likely the most muttered in their sex life, but instead he said, “Don’t rule it out, Weasley. It sounds ridiculous, but there are a lot of things ridiculous that happen in our world. Maybe it’s a combination of both. It might be a mixture muggle scientific experimentation and blood magic rituals. The animals are created scientifically and then possessed with demonic spirits.”

“What would be the point,” Ron asked.

“It might be in an attempt to control them better,” Harry said, grabbing the book from Blaise and turning a couple of pages. “They’re not in their purified form, so it’s easier to destroy them. There’s no way they’re going to get the millions of pieces together for the original blood ritual book. Most of it has probably disintegrated at this point. It’s better to make the outer shell strong to enhance the imperfections of the demons.”

“If any sort of muggle military got their hands on this idea, they’d go wild with it. It’ll be worse if militant purebloods do.”

Ron sighed deeply. “The best thing to do would be finding the people that are making the shells. Then we should get a hold of the rest of the blood ritual magic books from the purebloods that haven’t handed theirs over to the other side. Percy took ours. I don’t think he’ll have a problem handing it over to the Ministry.”

Blaise shrugged. “Don’t have to give mine over.”

“Zabini, are you going to be petty because it’s some stupid family heirloom?”

“No, I mean I don’t have to give mine over because I’ve used it for other things.”

Pansy stared at him in amusement. “For what?”

“Well, you may not know it, Pansy, but cannabis requires a lot of smoking paper—“

Hermione looked at him furiously, her face rivaling that of her husband’s. “You used an ancient book—an ancient, rare book—for cannabis? Is that what you’re telling me? Who does that!? How could you do such a thing?!”

“It was the only thing that happened to be around for me to use the first time and I thought, hey, why not? Burnt really well, added an interesting taste to the rest of the blunt. Just drop it, Weasley. My mother had the same reaction—but it had filthier words,” he then said to his stunned lover, who then hid a smile behind her hand. Hermione refused to address him for an entire week.

 

He was fortunate that his mother was away on holiday. He kept his Pensieve in her manor and in a cloaked room that only he could enter. His mother had attempted to enter over and over again until she’d given up. He cast an incantation to allow admittance to Pansy. She’d be the only person he’d bring in with him. He opened the cabinet, handing Pansy the memories of them before she’d met Henry. She held his hand tightly as they entered.

“So Draco is interested in Astoria?”

“He says they’re friends,” a much younger version of him said to her. She frowned, looking as if she were going to cry.

“Men and women can’t be friends.”

“That’s what I told him,” he said with a laugh, kissing her on the cheek. She looked at him in alarm.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to seduce you. You see, I don’t sleep with the smartest of girls—“

“Apparently, if you thought that would work. Honestly Zabini, if you want to shag, just say so,” she said with a smirk before kissing him on the lips. She gasped as she watched the sexual explicit memory, playfully shoving him.

“Mr. Zabini, you are so dirty!”

“You liked it when I did it,” he murmured as they switched to the night where they’d been caught by her parents.

“He’s a burden on his mother and he’d be a burden on you! He’s going to make you miserable,” her mother admonished as memory Pansy cursed under her breath, shoving on her clothes sloppily as Blaise took his time.

“I should be going—“

“We don’t want you around our daughter, do you hear me,” her father said angrily, advancing on him. Pansy stood in front of him.

“What about what I want?”

“Pansy—“

“I like him! And I want to get to know him! I’m old enough now, you know? I can just leave. Please don’t interfere.”

Her father started to soften a bit but her mother remained adamant. “He leaves. You stay. Or we will cut you off.”

Memory Pansy looked away from them and then at Blaise, mouthing ‘yes’ with a wicked grin.  He smiled at her brightly before disapparating away. She stared at the scene painfully before Blaise pulled her away towards the exit. They were back in the room and she was crying hysterically.

“Why would they do this to me?”

He hugged her closely. “They loved you. Sometimes when you love someone, you do things that you know are wrong but you’re too selfish to realize that it isn’t the best for them. That’s if they did it, love. We don’t know yet.”

She sniffed, kissing him deeply and smiling. “I want to do an encore of that—here, in your old room. “

“That? Oh…that,” he drawled as they left the room. They took off running and laughing towards his room like teenagers. She’d been in it once during the summer before their seventh year; their mothers speaking in hushed tones while she sat there going on about how worried she was for Draco and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. It was a rush kissing her even when they were older and more jaded. So much had changed. She was usually underneath him, but he asked different of her that time around. He watched her move in ecstasy, her lovely and petite pale body writhing in passion and her pink lips moaning his name.

They lied in his old bed, his room no longer clean and pristine. He kept his eyes closed as she drew circles on his chest absently; humming some tune she’d kept in her head for as long as he could remember.

Draco had asked him reasons why he’d kept it on for so long; why he loved her. He realized there was only one reason that mattered: he was his whole self when he was with her. His perfections, his flaws, everything came together with hers in a dynamic that he found irresistible. He couldn’t let her go again. It wouldn’t happen again.

“Okay.”

She looked up at him suddenly and smiled at him brightly. “Marriage?”

“Yes.”

“Big wedding?”

“No,” he said firmly. She pouted falsely and he laughed. “We’ll see. And Pansy? After that scene in Harry Potter’s office with Draco, I think its best we send a letter to Jeremy and give him the choice of accepting me.”

“You don’t think he will?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one day. But I can handle half of a family for now,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head and smiling contently.


	15. Awkward Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday break approaches for Hogwarts students and Jeremy must learn to accept new changes in his life

He didn’t really like the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a little bit too cozy in there with her cousins hanging about, staring at them and waiting for him to explode. All the red didn’t help. Having Roxanne pat his head as he laid his head on her lap helped a tiny bit. He just wished he was alone with her.

In fact, her father had purposely enlisted the help of her cousins and given several restrictions if he’d even be within the vicinity of her. They attempted to break the rules several times. However, all students were restricted to the castle until the areas of the protection were enlarged. At least if they’d been going to Hogsmeade they have a chance to have an actual date.  And while they could still talk to each other, flirting felt so unnatural around her family members.

When he’d gotten the owl from his mother only ten days before he thought he’d leave to go home to the Buxton household, he hadn’t known how to react at first. He’d read it over ten times. The first reaction had been disbelief. What followed was utter confusion, anger and sadness. They were a flurry of emotions that meshed together to create some new mixture that made him so out of himself. She’d found him just staring and standing in the Owlery, facing the wall. She poked him in amusement until she realized something had been wrong.

That was when she dragged him to the Gryffindor Tower to the annoyance of her relatives. He surrendered the letter to her, she read it, and groaned on his behalf. He hadn’t even made a sound. Classes were suspended early in preparation for the ward reconstruction over the holidays. They wouldn’t be taking the train. Their parents and the school would provide guarded carriages.

He’d fallen down on her lap as James tried to shake him out of it, where he closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t know how long it’d been. It just had been long. That was when he realized she’d brought him there.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I ever will be.”

“What happened,” James asked in concern.

“Seems like he’s just pulling something to get something out of you,” Albus muttered, glaring at him suspiciously. He closed his eyes, blinking away tears. He didn’t even have the energy to respond to his accusation.

“Don’t be a prat!”

“Albus, really, he’s going through a lot. Stop being so difficult with him,” Rose muttered. She’d had her nose buried in a book when they came in. He’d never had any interactions with her. She always avoided him; more than likely disliked him for scoring higher than her. She was trying to live up to her mother’s name. He had been trying to not get killed. It seemed he’d be spending a great deal of the next year trying not to be killed.

“Why can’t you just quit it already?”

“Has everyone gone insane? What happened to you not trusting him, Rose? I can see you being so nice about it Lily, having developed a crush—“

She viciously pummeled her brother with a pillow. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! SHUT UP!”

He barely noticed James taking the letter he’d received from his father; his real father. He sat back up quickly, snatching it from him and shoving it in his pocket. “It’s private.”

He sat back next to Roxanne, who shrugged apologetically in James direction. “I should have minded my business.”

Albus snorted, sitting in the armchair. “What’s his problem anyway? Slytherin kicked him out again?”

She looked at Jeremy, who sunk into the couch, still numb from the news. It was almost as if he was there and not there. Who was he really? Was he Jeremy Buxton? Was he Jeremy Zabini? No, he didn’t want to be Jeremy Zabini. He didn’t want to be Jeremy Buxton. He just wanted to be him. He just didn’t know who he was anymore.

“He just found out his—he found out Henry Buxton nearly succeeded in killing his mother about two weeks ago. He’s missing.”

Albus paled. “Oh. Oh shite, I’m sorry, Bux—“

“Don’t call me that. I don’t want to be called that,” he said sharply, glumly adding. “Thanks.”

James at in the other armchair genuinely concerned. “Is your mum okay?”

“She’s staying with a friend. I know she’s safe,” he said softly as Roxanne rubbed the top of his hand. He gave her a small smile. She shifted in her seat a bit before speaking. She looked at James, who nodded stiffly.

“I know you probably are hesitant to go there,” she said lightly. He would be going to the flat that belonged to Blaise Zabini in London. He wasn’t allowed back to the Buxton residence. He didn’t want to go back there, anyway. However, he wasn’t happy about having to sit at a table with his newly discovered biological father no matter what the circumstances were. He hated him and he hated him deeply. That sort of hate didn’t disappear overnight. 

He didn’t even know how to feel about Henry Buxton. He was no victim. He’d tricked his mother into marriage and had made it so that his real father had had no normal part in his life. Whatever little love he had had for him, that he held on to despite what happened on the train, completely diminished when he’d heard he tried to kill his mother and planned on trying again.

He had to give Blaise a little credit, however, in deciding not to tell him in person. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it. It would have been a lot worse; even if it had been from his mother. The letter gave him a chance to process the information a bit more before he was faced with it in the following days.

“I’ll stay at Hogwarts.”

“No—“

“I know what you’re thinking, Roxy. No,” Rose said sharply. “That is not going to work!  He will not approve—“

“Shut up,” Roxanne snapped. “I’ll invite who I want to the Burrow. Jeremy, you’re welcomed there. I was wondering how I was going to ask to escort me to the wedding. I’m sure Aunt Ginny won’t mind, right James?”

He smiled. “Of course she won’t. She was expecting some of us to bring dates.”

“Who are you bringing, James?”

“Felicia Hamilton. I really like her. She might be the one.”

“That’s the fifth ‘one’ this year,” Albus said with a smirk. Molly and Lily coughed back laughs.

“Where is Hugo,” James said grumpily, glaring at his siblings.

“Malfoy gave him detention for the incident with Lorelei Peters,” Roxanne replied nonchalantly. He felt a grin growing his face. Roxanne wasn’t as proficient as she could be with spells, but she’d aim the Severing Charm quite skillfully at Lorelei’s skirt when she’d said something nasty about James; who turned her down. She’d only shown interest in him because she knew they were friendly.

Unfortunately, Hugo had been the unknowing scapegoat when he had been practicing for his own Charms exam nearby. Scorpius’ mood had been severely darkened by seeing them together, so seeing the crying Lorelei Peters covering herself and then poor Hugo with his wand frozen in shock hadn’t been a good combination. He had stared until Roxanne had dragged him away quickly.

“I heard you were there with B—Jeremy, Roxanne. He’s polishing trophies because of you!”

“She should’ve kept her mouth shut about James. In fact, she should just keep away from my boyfriend and my cousins if she’s going to be a bitter idiot. As for Hugo, well—he’s old enough to start learning the meaning of collateral damage.”

“That didn’t mean she deserved to be exposed,” Rose replied sharply.

“Let’s not pretend Hugo didn’t enjoy the view,” Roxanne muttered, giving Jeremy a grin. Unable to help himself, he grinned back. “Say, why’d you turn her down?”

“Malfoy germs,” he replied with a shrug. He laughed at that and she gave him an affection kiss on the cheek.

“So what do you say? Is it a date? Think about it. It’ll be an actual date. You can meet with the scarier adults too. My father is the scariest.”

The prospect of finally meeting her father terrified him. However, it beat spending the whole Christmas break with Blaise and his mother. “Sure. I have to probably show up for Christmas. Never missed a Christmas with my mum and after what happened, don’t plan on it this time around.”

“You think maybe—let me come with you.”

There were sounds of protest. “Backyard Quidditch isn’t as intense without you! You can’t do it!”

“It’s only for a short time. Maybe for brunch or something. That way it isn’t completely terribly. It’ll fun; we’ll be masochists together.”

“You’d do that for me? You’d deal with my mother,” he asked with amusement, placing his hand on her forehead. “Do you need a PepperUp Potion?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just really care about you and I’d rather you not fall to pieces. Let me be your tape, your glue; various other adhesives,” she replied softly, giving him a soft kiss. They both ignored the sounds of disgust from Albus.

 

In return, he hadn’t sent Blaise an owl. Instead, he sent his mother an owl letting him know of his stay at the Burrow for the remainder of Christmas break and his attending of the wedding. When the carriage arrived for him, she was waiting and didn’t seem too upset. Instead, she looked more peaceful than he’d see her in a long time. He didn’t want to think about how peaceful her lover/father was making her, but he was grateful for that little fact. He hugged her tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She smiled warmly at him as he sat across from her. “I’m doing well, Jeremy. How are you,” she asked.

“I’ve had better days and I’ve had worse.”

“I missed you.”

“Did you? Haven’t you been busy?”

“If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, no, I haven’t been busy enough to not miss you,” she said with an innocent expression. It was almost as if she were some fresh young girl in love. If he didn’t know how it felt to be on his way there, he’d be disgusted. He should have been disgusted that it was due to Blaise Zabini. After everything she’d been through, however, he just couldn’t be that difficult.

“I missed you too.”

“Apparently, not enough to want to spend break with me, hmm?”

“I just can’t, mum. I hope you understand.”

“Well, with all those people around I doubt he’d show up. Maybe it is better for you to be there anyway. I can’t say I approve completely, but you’re becoming a man,” she said with a frown. “Blaise was the one who insisted you do what you wanted. I was going to forbid it.”

“I have to wonder if it wasn’t for selfish reasons,” he murmured, staring out the window. The Weasley/Potter carriage was starting to split away from them.

“I’m not asking you to accept this right away. I don’t know if it will ever happen. It would mean the world to me if you just tried to make the steps towards doing so.”

“Damn it, mum. This is all too much to take. All of it; not just what I just found out. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever really find myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve already found yourself—just too blind to see it, I guess,” she said, sighing. He didn’t respond, just sat back.

They had to take a muggle train to the flat. He’d never really had the chance to explore London as he’d like. There had never been a reason to see it on his own and his mother had blanched at the possibility. However, he followed her closely as they shifted uncomfortably through them. She was sneering a bit as they bumped into her, but he couldn’t help but be amused and fascinated by it all. He stared around as they walked the streets. She elbowed him.

“We’ll grab some lunch. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“You cook?! You?!”

“I have to. Your—,” she paused, giving him an apologetic smile. “No house elves. We are guests of a stubborn home owner.”

He was a little surprised to hear that he didn’t own house elves at the flat. They’d bought some food from a Greek restaurant, shoving their ways into the door and awkwardly balancing bags in their hands. No sign of his unfortunate father. It hadn’t looked so big outside; perhaps it was charmed to seem so large. It wasn’t as big as his house though. It was almost cozy.

He didn’t see his father at all for the first couple of days. Because of their lives being threatened, he wasn’t to go anywhere. She hadn’t been able to get her wand and he was still restricted. He sent off for presents he had in a small trust Pansy had aside from. He’d wanted to give Roxanne hers in person. At first he busied himself with studying, but could hear Roxanne snickering at him for refusing to have any other fun. So, he forced his mother to sit and watch the TV with him. He was a bit shocked that there was one in the apartment.

“Do you think he steals electricity?”

“It’s always a possibility, but I don’t think so. He has more of an affinity for muggle items than I thought. He’s such a hypocrite; used to claim he hated muggles. I always thought he protested too much. What a try-hard,” she said a smirk.

He’d come across Blaise in the middle night on his balcony, smoking a cigarette and tossing discarded buds on the floor. His mother would kill him. He eyed him warily as he stared out before climbing out. He snickered at the curse under his breath as he stood a couple of feet away from him. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt awkward whatever it was.

“Happy Christmas,” he said to him. Jeremy gave him a ghost of a smile.

“Happy Christmas.”

There was more awkward silence until Blaise put out his cigarette. “I’d say it’s best for you to express your feelings about me now and get it out. I want an idea of what I have to face.”

“I kind of hate you.”

“Go on,” he grunted, lighting another.

“You’re selfish. You’re a slag. You’re insensitive. You’re a snob. And judging by the obsessive amount of mirrors around, you may be in love with yourself. I’m angry that you didn’t try to find out long ago that I was your biological son. And I’m angry that you made my mother into a scarlet woman by dragging her into a 15 year affair. ”

“I’ll have you know, young man, those mirrors are family heirlooms.”

He snorted. “No they’re not,” he said incredulously.

“You can add terrible liar to that list,” he muttered with a laugh. “It’s difficult for me because yes, selfish is on top of that list. I partially blamed you for my misery, can you believe that?  I didn’t think about you much when I tried to get your mother to leave him. I just thought about her and I.

You hate me. I don’t love you, yet. I don’t know how to be a father. But I’d like to try, because I love your mother and despite your age, you deserve a father that actually gives a shite about you. And what I’m going to say next is going to be awkward so bear with me.”

“Okay.”

“I’m ambitious about few things. The potions I’ve invented and created were the only things in my life that I helped create that I could take pride in. I didn’t think I’d do much of anything. I didn’t think I’d ever have an heir.

“When I found out you were my son it kind of—it felt nice knowing that I was at least a little responsible for you existing. You’re actually the best thing I’ve created in my miserable existence.”

Blaise sighed deeply, putting out the fag and disapparating. Jeremy stood there, staring at the spot he been at. He’d always imagined his father sitting him down, telling him that he was proud of him and that he was brilliant; that he was proud to have him as a son. However, what Blaise had told him was emotionally overbearing.

 

When Roxanne showed up at his door, he’d been taken aback at her muggle attire. He stepped aside to let her in, appreciating how she looked in a casual dress and stockings. “Happy Christmas! Like what you see?”

“It’s just so girly. Even more girly than I’m usually used to from you. Happy Christmas.”

“Nice to know you’ve finally noticed I’m a complete girl, Zabini,” she murmured with a grin before kissing him. While he wasn’t used to the sudden name change, it was nice to hear a new last name. Thinking more about it, it sounded a lot better than Buxton. His mother cleared her throat.

“I’m right here,” she said stiffly, then smiled, offering her hand to Roxanne. “Happy Christmas, Roxanne. We haven’t met. Well we have, but I was a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“Yeah, I remember. You punched my uncle. You have a great right hook, maam! Oh and Happy Christmas,” she said with a smile, shaking her hand. Blaise popped in again, mostly presents in his hands. He looked as if he was going to just drop them on the floor lazily, but his mother gave him a dirty look. He rolled his eyes and started to organize them on the coffee table before greeting Roxanne.

“You look absolutely lovely, Miss Weasley. Great job Jeremy,” he finished with a bright smile, offering Roxanne his hand. He wanted to glare as he kissed her hand instead, making Roxanne giggle nervously and actually—was she blushing? Great, he thought sarcastically as he grabbed it possessively. What a prat.

“Blaise,” Pansy said with a groan, putting her hand to her forehead.

“Sorry, love. I can’t turn it off like a switch,” he replied with a shrug as both Jeremy and Pansy glared at him. Roxanne gave him an amused glance as they sat on the couch for tea and treats his mother had slaved over.  He decided that he rather as well shrugged it off.

Before he’d arrived at the flat, he dreaded awkward conversation. It started off that way about how things were at school. However, his mother saved it by asking Roxanne about Quidditch. He was glad she got her started. Despite his little interest in it, he loved how animated she got when she talked about what it was like to be a Beater and what her aspirations were involving it. He’d have to borrow a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages from someone to at least understand it better himself. His mother eyed her distastefully; almost as if she were looking for an off button. Blaise studied both of them with curiosity before cutting it.

“Never been a big fan of Quidditch myself. Always thought it was a bunch of dunderheads grunting and whirling about on brooms brutally. But of course, it seems I was wrong.  Can’t say I’m happy to be proven wrong. I like to be right in my prejudices,” he said with a small smile. Her face lit up even more. She looked proud of herself.

“Maybe I’ve made a new fan out you,” she asked hopefully.

“Let’s not go that far. The most you get from me is begrudging respect.”

“That’s good enough,” she said with a laugh.

“I think it’s time to exchange presents. Roxanne, I apologize that we have nothing to give you.”

Jeremy took one off the table, handing it to her. “I did.”

She smiled down at it. “Your present is at the Burrow. I didn’t even expect anything.”

His mother grabbed for Blaise’s arm nervously as she watched them. He turned his attention back to Roxanne, who gasped in surprise. She was conservative with her jewelry. She wore earrings and he figured a bracelet would be all wrong for her. He’d by chance remembered seeing a pretty locket and chain set in Diagon Alley once. It was in the shape of a small Bludger with blue stones decorating it.

He’d gotten it for her months prior when he’d left the hospital after they shared their first kiss. The charms on it took months to perform. At the time, it had been probably too expensive to give her, but he figured she needed some protection. It was so much more appropriate to give it to her now.

“It’s charmed for safety outside of the field. I figured you wouldn’t need protection inside the field and I’d hate for you to get in trouble wearing it by breaking rules. There are a couple of incantations in the locket. There’s one for you to use when you play so that it’ll stick to your neck and not get in the way.”

He’d never imagined her crying, so when he saw tears fall he was a little bit alarmed. “This had to take months to order.”

“It doesn’t matter—are you—,” he started but was stopped by her kissing and hugging him. She whispered in his ear.

“You see me. And I see you.”

He buried his head in her neck as she sniffled. He’d almost forgotten there were two other people in his room. His mother was holding her hand to her heart as she held on tightly to Blaise’s hand. Blaise had this look on his face that Jeremy that his mother gave him every once in a while when he’d accomplished something she thought was worthwhile. It was pride. And it made him smile back.

Roxanne laughed, grabbing a tissue. “I love it! I’m never going to take it off.”

“Please don’t,” he said seriously. She’d put it on automatically and watched in content silence as he, his mother, and Blaise exchanged gifts. A new quill set that he was glad to receive after he set Lorelei’s on fire. There were also books that he’d had his eye on, for some complicated spells. It didn’t surprise him; his mother had always been on top of what he’d want.

There was nothing really notable he’d received from his father at first. He figured he probably didn’t know his interests enough. Blaise had gotten her clothes; something his mother greatly appreciated and gotten him a nice muggle suit for the wedding. He hadn’t even thought of getting anything for him. Perhaps he should have. It was too late by that time.

He was almost reluctant to leave the flat that day. The rest of his clothes had been sent there by Blaise and his mother was hugging him tightly. There was small part of him that feared letting go of that hug, but Roxanne waited for him, wearing the gift he’d given her proudly.

“Happy Christmas, Jeremy. I love you so much, my little hero,” she said as she pulled away, wiping her tears. Blaise cleared his throat.

“Jeremy, I wanted to speak to you privately for a moment.”

He looked at his mother, who looked confused and only shrugged at him. He went out on the balcony with him and looked nervous standing there before him. Then, he handed him three leather bound journals. One was a new one; the other two were way past worn and the pages were crinkled from use and age.

“The new one is for you to fill. I wasn’t sure if you wrote or not, but I thought maybe you could start. Not telling you to, but I always felt better writing what I was passionate about.”

Jeremy had hardly paid attention to it. He was staring down at the old ones. “These belong to you, don’t they?”

“I know you’re interested in becoming an Auror and that’s good. Your mother told me you admired Harry Potter and as much as I dislike it, I can see how you would; being braver than her and I ever was. However, I hoped you’d have an appreciation for potions considering you got high marks in it. It’s the only thing I’ve ever excelled in. “

“What you hold in your hands are my recipes, my ideas, and my thoughts over the years on everything involving potions. I started when I was twelve and just added an entry in the second one about a week ago. I wanted you to get to know the better part of me. Hopefully, this is a good start.”

Jeremy hadn’t remembered the last time he did it. He hadn’t even done it when he’d discovered his mother had almost been killed. Jeremy lost it at that moment. He started to cry, choking and wiping tears away furiously, looking at Blaise reluctantly. “You’re really working hard to not have me hate you, huh?”

Blaise smiled nervously. “I never know how to react when men cry. It’s damn uncomfortable. At least I know you like them before you’ve even read them.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you, d—shite, I can’t say it yet,” he laughed as Blaise patted him on the back.

“You’re welcome. Go have fun and try not to tear your hair out with all the dumbfuckery on at the Weasleys. Oh and Jeremy, I have one bit of advice to give you.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let the wrong people see you cry. Like Scorpius. Please never cry in front of that little arsehole.”

“I won’t,” he replied with a genuine smile as they went back inside. His mother glowed as she watched them come inside. He’d never seen her that happy, even with him. Perhaps Blaise wasn’t that bad after all. He was still kind of bad, but the idea of him being his father was actually something he could get used to.


	16. Wedding at the Burrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spends the holiday with the Weasleys in attempt to fight his growing depression and receives an unlikely visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read the story, left kudos, and bookmarked. I hope you guys are enjoying it and have a safe holiday!

For the first time in years since the divorce, Harry was actually quite happy to be returning to the newly built house. It had taken them five years to return it to a fraction of its former glory. It would never be the same and it had been added onto since all the children had been born, but it still had somewhat of the charm he could remember. Arthur and Molly had made sure of it before they passed. He half expected to find Molly there when he entered; cooking at the stove. Instead he saw Ginny and Gary cooking in the kitchen, laughing about an incident Ginny had had a couple of years prior as a commentator.

The snitch, for some strange reason, had wandered near the commentator’s booth and as a result, both Seekers had collided into it, sending the other commentator she’d been with head first into a wall. How she had managed to not get hurt had been on his mind. He’d never been able to find humor in it. He entered the kitchen awkwardly.

“Happy Christmas”

They stopped laughing to smile at him pleasantly. “Happy Christmas,” they replied. He was thankful for the appearance of his children, who ran up to greet him along with Hermione. They rescued him from the scene. The living room was an absolute mess. There were wrappings, ribbons, and presents everywhere. There was muggle pop music blasting. It sounded like Lily won the toss that year. They’d started that tradition when James had turned thirteen. Teddy and Victoire’s son Franklin ran up to him and he picked him up.

“Yay, here for Christmas! You’re going to stay right?”

“I’m going to stay,” he confirmed, ruffling his hair.

“This music is terrible. Lily, are you still listening to this shite,” Fred asked in disgust. His girlfriend, an American seeker Gina Morales, seemed to enjoy it and hit him playfully.

“I won the toss. Get over it—tosser!”

“Lily,” Harry warned, glaring at her.

“Sorry,” she muttered, sitting on the floor beside Albus who was arguing heatedly with Molly . He looked over at George who looked a bit on edge while Angelina ignored him and went back to talking to Gina, who was discussing her decision to become alternate for Puddlemere United. He hadn’t even known Fred was dating her. They were intent on keeping Quidditch in the family, it seemed. He smiled sadly. He’d thought about it every once in a while and wondered if he had took the career path of Seeker if his marriage would have stuck. He probably would have figured out a way to ruin that as well, though, he thought bitterly.

James leaned on the armchair he sat at. “Ready for the fireworks,” he asked with a wicked smile.

“Huh?”

“Roxanne invited Jeremy over to stay at the Burrow. He’s her date for the wedding.”

“Oh yes, the fireworks,” he replied with a smirk.  “I heard you’re bringing Felicia Hamilton.”

“I was bringing her.”

He looked at him with a frown. “What happened?”

“Anthony Thomas happened. It turned out they were holding a flame for each other,” he said with a pout.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright. I mean there’s plenty out there right,” he replied with a half-hearted smile and a shrug. He heard the front door open. Ron’s voice traveled through alone with Roxanne. He could hear Ginny make an exclamation about something before they came in the room.

If Jeremy never sweated before, he imagined he would sweat now. The whole room had quieted down.  They were holding hands and she had a very expensive necklace that he’d considered giving to Lily when she’d won the position for Seeker.  However, things had started to get busy and he hadn’t had the time to put the order in (then her grades became deplorable). Well that’s interesting, he thought as he stood up from the chair.

“Happy Christmas, Jeremy,” Harry offered happily shaking his hand. Everyone else followed hesitantly, slowly going back to what they were doing, but continuously looking from George to the couple to see what would happen. James and Lily greeted him happily, but held wicked looks of amusement.

“Happy Christmas to everyone,” he said awkwardly. Harry looked at George, who was clutching the end of the couch and staring at the necklace as if it had been an extra head that’d grown from Roxanne’s neck. Angelina glared at her husband before walking over to greet Jeremy.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Angelina.”

“Very nice to meet you, Angelina,” he returned as she examined her daughter’s neck.

“It’s very pretty. Fits you well, Roxy,” she said with nervous laughter.

“I know you think it’s too much—“

“No, just a little surprised. Actually, your father and I thought about it, but he assumed you’d like Quidditch supplies better. Forgive him, he switches on and off when it comes to your gender,” she added softly. Jeremy bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Harry felt a bit wrong for taking pleasure in the fact that Jeremy’s presence would take a whole lot of tension from him. Roxanne dragged him to the tree which was awfully close to her father. Ron came up.

“George is going to pop. We may have a chance to save Jeremy’s life.”

“I don’t know. Are you sure he won’t kill us to get to him?”

“That’s a good thought. May Jeremy rest in peace,” Ron said in amusement, giving him a one armed hug. “Glad to have you back in the fold, mate.”

“It feels better than I thought it would,” he replied with a smile, as Lily, Molly and even Rose admired the necklace and Jeremy opened his present. He laughed.

“It’s Quidditch Through the Ages. I meant to get a copy of this. I have a lot to catch up on.”

“You asked me about it. I figured that’s the best source. There is something else,” she said, pulling away from her cousins and handing him a smaller package. He grinned at her and his smile brightened when he saw the iPod she’d gotten him. She’d earned that money working in muggle London during the summer. He hadn’t known what she saved it up for; definitely not Jeremy. All that money was gone now. And they were being watched. He started to snicker. Poor, poor Jeremy. Roxanne was getting closer to him and George was talking to himself while Fred looked at him incredulously.

“This is great! The Ramones, Alice Cooper, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts—how’d you know?”

She grinned, pulling him closer by his t-shirt. “I don’t know, maybe all the ratty t-shirts of muggle rock and punk bands you wear under your robes, stupid.”

That was when George shot up from the couch. He looked at Ron, who had jumped a little in terror himself. “Time for Backyard Quidditch!”

The kids were absolutely clueless. They cheered and scrambled up from the floor to grab their supplies. No one could save Jeremy now. He made his way to him and put his arm around his shoulder. His hand was digging in, hard. Jeremy looked at him nervously from the side. Jeremy was slightly taller, but George was bulkier. “Hello, Mr. Weasley,” he managed to get out. “Your hand is kind of tight there.”

“Oh don’t worry about that. Have you ever played Backyard Quidditch, Jeremy?”

He looked at his girlfriend in an attempt for help. She smiled falsely, reaching for her father’s hand but he just pulled away. “Jeremy is not too good at Quidditch, dad.”

“He can be a Keeper, sweetheart. Would you like to be a Keeper, Jeremy? Of course you would.”

“I’m terrible at Quidditch, sir.”

“You’ll get better with experience.”

“Dad—“

“Roxy, Jeremy has agreed to play. Don’t be rude. He’s a guest.”

She looked at her mother in frantic panic. “Mum!”

“George, let him go.”

He reluctantly did so, patting him so hard on the back that he nearly fell forward. “Fred! Help him set up. He’s playing the opposite team.”

“WHAT?! SO YOU’RE GOING TO PUNISH THE OPPOSITE TEAM?! FOR WHAT,” Roxanne asked incredulously.

“Ron, didn’t Hugo get detention for shredding some girls’ skirt? That team will work.”

 

By the time the game had ended, Hugo’s team had indefinitely lost by a landslide. Jeremy had gone to the loo with Hermione getting healed while Roxanne, who had been forced on a team with her father due to her cousins, cracked jokes awkwardly at his expense. He’d almost lost his teeth if Fred hadn’t finally intervened and hit a Bludger towards his father in an attempt to stop the continuous onslaught. Harry had to give it to Jeremy for taking the beating. He held out for as long as he could. Albus had definitely been lazy about looking for the snitch. Afterwards, most of the kids were either in the kitchen or playing in the snow.

“Fred needs to figure out his loyalties,” George said with amusement. He sat on the couch propped up, looking pleased at his handiwork.

“That was highly unfair, George,” Hermione said in annoyance as she finally joined them in the living room. “I didn’t see you aim it at any of the other players.”

“Family gets a pass. They’re only kids after all.”

“That was one of the most pathetically one-sided Quidditch matches I’d ever seen,” Ron said in disbelief, almost looking as if he were going to cry. It had been definitely both painful and amusing to watch.  

“What’s your final verdict? Are you going to cool it a bit,” Angelina asked.

“Okay, maybe I was a little tiny bit rough with him. He was a real good sport about it. In fact, even when glared at me he shook my hand. Are you sure he’s Henry Buxton’s kid?”

“Um—well he’s not—“

“Ron,” Hermione snapped, hitting him on the arm. “That was something we said wouldn’t leave the office.”

“What? Whose kid is he?”

Harry looked from the armchair to make sure they were still in the kitchen. He had a small smile on his face as he enjoyed the pumpkin pie Hermione had made. Roxanne sat on the table with her back faced towards them, but he could hear her laughing at something Jeremy muttered. He turned back to look at them. “George, please don’t freak out when I tell you this.”

“What? Is he Malfoy’s kid?”

“No,” Harry, Ron, and Hermione said in united horror.

“Good. That would have caused my first heart attack,” he said in relief. “Next you’ll be saying he’s Blaise Zabini’s kid, because he kind of looks like—“

Ron snorted when the realization slowly crept onto him. Harry leaned forward, whispering. “George, I’m asking you to please not freak out.”

“It’s not as bad as Henry Buxton right,” he muttered, looking a bit sick. “Okay, quick. Someone name one good quality about Blaise Zabini. Naming his kid doesn’t count.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Angelina said with a smirk.

He groaned and looked at her in horror. “Don’t do that! It’s gross and unsettling when you do it!”

“He’s nowhere near as bad as Malfoy. Believe it or not, Jeremy is a lot like his father—“

“If you removed all the other disgusting attributes,” Hermione said calmly, causing him and Ron to laugh at the mentioned fate of the Zabini ancient blood ritual handbook.

“Like what?”

“Hermione’s pissed because he uses book pages for smoking papers.”

Ginny walked into the living room with Gary. Harry genuinely smiled at them and they silently acknowledged each other. It was a start. He was trying to make an effort for his children if he couldn’t do it for his own sanity. “It figures Zabini would be a pothead.”

“It wasn’t just any book. It was a rare antique—“

“She’s getting started, love. I think I’m going to go hide with the kids outside,” George said in amusement, jumping up from the couch and kissing his wife on the cheek.  He paused to look at the scene in the kitchen. “You’re right, Harry. He seems like an okay kid. I’ll tolerate him. Uh, make sure they aren’t behind any closed doors together.”

 

The household was pretty busy during preparations for the wedding. Harry fought the itch to go into the Ministry and work. He had sleepless nights there, finding himself anxious about everything else but the wedding. One night, he started paying attention to what James was telling Jeremy and Albus in the adjoining room next to his. He was still upset about Felicia Hamilton deciding not to accompany him to the wedding the night before the big day.

“I’m starting to get tired of doing it.”

“Tired of having sex? How could you be tired of having sex,” Albus asked incredulously. They had absolutely no idea he could hear. He smirked. Someone might be getting grounded.

“Not sex, dummy. I mean, jumping from girl to girl. Maybe I should stop having sex to rethink my priorities. How do you do it, Jeremy?”

“Potter, I wish I could say that was a slick way of trying to see if I’ve done it with Roxanne.”

“Well since we’ve arrived to it—“

“I haven’t. We haven’t had the chance anyway.”

“I heard about a lap dance.”

“Does her father know? Is that why he pummeled me during the game?”

“It’s possible.”

He sighed deeply and there was sound of shifting. “We didn’t have sex; any kind of sex. The most we’ve done is make-out. At first, it wasn’t from lack of trying. We kept getting interrupted.”

“Thank God. Can you imagine how Uncle George would have reacted? We would have seen the first Backyard Quidditch related death.”

“You said at first. Have you changed your mind?”

“After I got over the initial shock of the chaos that is my life, it made me realize how messed up it would be if I ruined Roxanne’s life if I couldn’t keep it in my pants.

“Each time we came close, we hadn’t been prepared. Then I realized we weren’t really mature enough to do it.  Thankfully, I used protection with Lorelei, but even then I hadn’t thought about it. It’s pretty difficult, you know? Like an animal tasting blood and not being able to resist it afterwards.”

“I always use protection.”

“So do I.”

“You’ve never had sex, Albus.”

“Abstinence is the best type of protection.”

“You sound like an absolute git,” James said with a laugh. Harry smiled as he could hear someone being hit with a pillow.

“Did I answer your question?”

“Yes. I’m going to try finding a girl who I’m really interested in. It’s going to be hard—literally—but cold showers are a growing boy’s best friend.”

 

 

 They were certainly more mature than he’d been. He’d been so wrapped up in how he felt about Astoria and whatever had happened with Draco that he hadn’t even really thought hard about the consequences for his own actions. He’d still try to have a talk with James and Albus before they went back for their winter break to make sure the point had hit home.

He kept thinking about his situation as he watched Ginny walk down the aisle with Bill; looking beautiful in her off-white dress. She’d almost looked exactly the same. For a moment, he believed he saw her a bit happier than she’d been at their wedding. Then he realized that what he saw was that she was happier than she had been the last five years of their marriage. He hadn’t seen her that happy since they’d gotten married. He sat in the back and considered slipping out, but knew he’d disappoint his children if he left that way.

After the first dance, he knew he couldn’t bear the rest of the reception. There were too many happy couples there; old and new. Once again he felt out of place as he watched them. He needed to drink, but wouldn’t do it there. He downed his champagne and approached the couple.

“Congratulations Ginny and Gary. Take care of her. She’s a real good woman,” he told him, shaking his hand. Ginny smiled at him, crying before giving him a hug.

“Thank you.”

 

He entered his flat wearily with a whiskey bottle still in its paper. He was on his second; the first he’d drunk in front of the liquor store. The children would be coming to spend time with him at his flat. He moaned as he took a big chug from it and could feel his head growing heavier. They believed he was going to fall apart knowing that their mother remarried and was genuinely happy. It was only half of his story. He sat down at the couch. It would take him a couple of moments to notice Draco sitting there. He smirked as he hugged the bottle to his chest.

“Well this is a nice ending to my perfect day.”

Draco glared at him. “We need to talk.”

“Malfoy, you won. You have your wife. We don’t need to talk about anything.”

“She told me she initiated it.”

“So?”

“I need to know why you accepted her offer.”

Harry stared at him. “Why?

“You owe me, Potter. You owe me that answer.”

“I don’t owe you shite,” he snapped heatedly, chugging more of the whiskey back. His unwanted guest walked up to him and grabbed the whiskey bottle from him, placing it elsewhere before Harry grabbed him weakly by the collar. They stared at it each for a moment, breathing shallowly.

He hated that Draco was so attractive to him. It was only him. He’d never had those feelings for other men until the night they had sex. He was in love with his wife, sexually obsessed with him. What a tangled web of bullshite. He gave him a soft kiss that was returned, then started to buckle under his weight. Draco grabbed him before he fell to the floor and he let out a laugh.

“You need to lie down.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Harry murmured as Draco put Harry’s arm over his shoulder.

“Not going to happen, Potter.”

He helped him up the stairs, both of them nearly tripping as Harry thought his legs were starting to walk off by their own. Perhaps his legs were fed up with him as well. He giggled at the thought of seeing his detached bottom-half running out the door, leaving him a note that said ‘Farewell, you masochistic bum’. Finally, they reached the bed and Harry fell down on it, groaning at the wave of nausea that was going to hit him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing a pillow.

“I’d forgotten the wedding was today.”

“How could you? It was all over the papers.”

“Why would you even go? Oh right, you’re an idiot. Nevermind.”

“I wanted to be a good sport.”

“Did you at least hex the gift you gave them?”

“I didn’t give them a gift.”

“Oh, so your revenge was being a leech of a wedding guest.”

“What are you doing here, Malfoy? Are you here to laugh at my misery? To tell me that I deserve this for messing with your wife? I’ll tell you why I accepted.

“I accepted because she was beautiful and it felt nice to be wanted by someone who was untouchable. I accepted because I couldn’t understand how my life could be in such shambles when even my rival had a wife that loved him. I also did it because it was wrong and I just—wanted to do something wrong. I got more a sexual thrill out of it.”

There was a long pause before Draco grabbed him by the back of his head, roughly. “You are more twisted than I thought you were, Potter.”

He chuckled. “No shite, Malfoy.”

“What you did was fucking cruel and greedy. She and my son are all I have. You have everything and yet still, here you are, a greedy son of a bitch, with your hands all over my wife.”

“And you,” he added with a loud laugh. “Maybe I’ll fuck your son too.”

He let go of him then. Maybe he was considering using his wand to him then; killing him. “She actually thinks she loves you. And that you love her.”

“I do love her.”

“Then you’re a pathetic piece of work. You’re even worse than Zabini was Potter. Let that sink in. He did it a lot longer than you and still, he’s a better man than you are.”

“Go away, Draco,” he said softly, hugging his pillow closer to him. Draco sighed deeply.

“Don’t do it, Potter.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t kill yourself.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to kill myself,” he replied with a snort. He had had his eyes closed, hoping he’d drift off. He opened his eyes at that moment, staring blankly. It was all too much. After years and years of all this damn nonsense, it was way too much. There was only so much he could take.

“You wanted me to kill you just a couple of moments ago.  If I hadn’t guessed that you were purposely trying to drive me to murder, you’d be dead right now.”

“If you’re not going to kill me, bugger me, or both, leave me alone. My children are coming here tomorrow.”

Draco grabbed him roughly. “Harry, I’m serious. Don’t give up. You may think because your ex-wife is playing house with a new man means that you aren’t needed, but you are. You are their father. They love you. Your friends love you.”

“Are you going to tell me you love me?”

“I don’t want to see you dead, you stupid fuck.”

He felt tears starting to fall. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

“Oh please, you know what to do. You know how to move on. You just don’t want to because it’s emotionally difficult. Suck it up,” he said with a sneer, letting him go. He stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes and disapparating. Harry stared at the spot, crying silently and putting his pillow over his head.


	17. Millions of Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco ponders the state of his life and faces an uncertain future with a great deal of fear

When Draco arrived back at the Manor, he’d gone to bed and pulled Astoria in his arms, taking in her scent as she smiled softly against him. He ran her soft silky hair through his fingers; an act that in the right moment could be completely sensual to both him and her.

A part of him wanted to wake her up so that he could ravish her; have her mark her claim all over him so that he’d remember that he was hers and hers alone. She wouldn’t be seeing _him_ again. After all the screaming, crying, and insults flown towards each other, he had to appreciate that after everything she wouldn’t leave him. However, he knew that she loved Harry Potter and that would forever be the blemish in his marriage that’d never go away.

He suspected he’d be pushing him off the edge if he crossed that line. He could tell. That night when he nearly killed him, he’d seen something in his eyes that he was starting to slip. He hadn’t even planned on telling Astoria. It hadn’t been to get back at her. He had just wanted to get a small reaction out of him; embarrass him in front of his friends once they discovered their friend was taking it up the rear from the man he wouldn’t have turned his back on before.

What he hadn’t expected was that he’d enjoy it. That he’d like seeing him with his mouth all over him; everywhere on him. They didn’t even talk that whole time. He’d come to his flat when he came home from the Ministry. He’d give him a smile and always be the one to start kissing him, grabbing him, and dragging him to his own bed.

After the first night, Potter had tried to fight it with this look of confusion on his face that Draco found amusing; then adorable. At that point he hadn’t planned on stopping; not even when Pansy and Blaise had figured out what was going on.

It got to the point where all he could think about was sex with him. It started to affect his business in a bad way and like a child, he avoided Blaise and all their employees the best way he could. He’d put in outrageous orders for completely useless ingredients and they were hemorrhaging money. When Potter had been the one to finally reveal what was going on, there had been a strange sense of relief that came over him. He didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to keep the secret anymore.

He’d been so caught up in how he’d been handling the mess that he hadn’t stopped to think about what it was doing to Potter. He hadn’t even cared at first. He’d been at the office trying to salvage the mess he caused in such a short amount of time and instead of going home, was just curious. He had to know his answer. She told him she’d done it because she had always been intrigued by him and he looked so vulnerable at the party that she wondered what would happen.

She hadn’t even expected him to say yes, but he did. Then she admitted that there was something about him that made her wanted to do it; wanted to test her marriage and she what happened. She hadn’t intended to fall in love with him, just as Draco guessed Harry hadn’t intended for it to happen either.  

He’d been there for his own purposes, to get closure and just leave him be. Then what he saw scared him. It’d been a living embodiment of his father holding onto his whiskey bottle. His father’s liver had given out with that last whiskey bottle. He sat in the chair in his drawing room, facing the window and holding onto it for dear life. He was still warm when Draco found him dead. It wasn’t too long afterward his mother gave up on living as well. He hadn’t thought someone could die of a broken heart until he found his mother a year later in her bed with a tear stained cheek and picture of his father from his days at Hogwarts.

His father had come back from the dead in the form of Harry Potter. He couldn’t believe it when he saw Harry stumbling in his flat. It isn’t his problem, he thought at first as he sat in front of him. Then, he witnessed him drinking whiskey like it was life giving water and he had had to intervene. He would have taken him right there, even with him stinking of whiskey and despair, if he hadn’t known that it would just make things worse.

Harry purposely bought up Scorpius. That’s when he knew Harry had lost his mind. Harry Potter, the goddamned hero of the wizarding world that continued to sacrifice even his own happiness to keep it safe, was going to off himself. In another time and place where Draco was completely detached from it all and could keep his rivalry at the forefront, it would have been utter victory. He realized in mind numbing horror that if Harry Potter killed himself, he’d go mad with grief.

He’d only slept with him four months and he was in love with Harry Potter. It was ridiculous. It was insane. Wasn’t he supposed to hate him?  They’d made each other lives miserable to the point where Harry would sleep with his wife and he would sleep with Harry just to humiliate him. It must have been fucking him that did it. It came back to that bet his father and mother had made.

He had had tea with him mother four months before she died and they’d been reminiscing about his father when he mentioned it.

“I can’t believe you two actually thought there was a possibility I’d be with Harry Potter.”

“It wasn’t your father. I threw in the name. Your father thought I was crazy at first,” she replied with a small smile.

He wanted to say that was the most ridiculous thought she had in her head, but she continued, “You were so obsessive in your hatred, or your supposed hatred—“

“It wasn’t supposed. It was—is actual hatred.”

“Hmm,” she replied, putting her cup down. “Have you ever heard of the saying ‘The opposite of love isn’t hate, it is indifference’?”

“No. It sounds suspiciously muggle. Father would be horrified.”

“He was,” she said with a giggle. “My interpretation plays on the idea that hatred and love are somewhat the same type of emotion; on the same spectrum but on opposite ends. So, I thought, under the right circumstances, love could turn into hatred just as hatred can turn into love. Your father got it, but was very displeased with me and changed the subject.”

“Mum, I mean this with all due respect, but that is complete bullshite. Indifference isn’t an emotion. It’s the absence of emotion. This is exactly why I thought it was a muggle saying.”

“In the grand scheme of things it is. However, in the case of Mr. Harry Potter, I think it’s a little more accurate than you think.”

He changed the topic, believing that his mother had truly gone bonkers with grief and he wouldn’t entertain her notions further. He still didn’t agree with her, even then when he had such irrational feelings for someone he still considered a rival. The opposite of hatred, he believed, was not love but compassion and understanding. It was why he hated Potter, yet Potter could only see him as a rival because there was a part of him that may have understood him. He thought somewhere between wanting to kill him and wanting to save him that Draco had crossed that spectrum to the other side.

He’d never know. And he’d never tell Astoria. He’d keep it to himself and hope that it just went away. Like he hoped Astoria being love with him would go away. It was absolute fucking madness. All three of them were insane.  He held onto Astoria, pulling her closer and hoping that it in some way she could bring him back to sanity.

He sat with Astoria at the breakfast table in the morning and she had this strange smile on her face as she nibbled on her fruit. Scorpius was in bed, still grumpy that Draco hadn’t let him go to some stupid party that Josiah Nott had in London with other students from Slytherin. They couldn’t take any chances. He glared at her before pulling her out of daydream by grabbing her hand softly.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You’d be angry.”

“Try me.”

“About you and him.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? And why are you smiling about it?”

“I think you know why I’m smiling about it.”

“You’re not as conservative as I thought if that is what you’re thinking about.”

“Oh come on, Draco. You’ve never had any thoughts about two women together? Or should I ask two men?”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Scorpius could walk in at any moment,” he muttered, starting to move the food around in his plate.

“He won’t be coming out of his room today. He’s grounded there.”

“What’d he do?”

“When I went to talk to him and explain to him as to why he couldn’t go to the party, he told me ‘to go choke on Harry Potter’s cock’.”

He sighed. “He’s grounded there until he goes back to Hogwarts.”

“To his credit, when he realized what he’d said he apologized profusely. He looked as if he was going to cry he was so horrified.”

“Not only is he grounded until he goes back to Hogwarts, he’ll have his account frozen. I’ll make sure to have the Headmaster watch him more carefully so that he stops his other extracurricular activities he thinks we don’t know about. He’s not going to say shite like that and think it’s alright,” he snapped. “I blame you, you know?”

“Me?!”

“He’s such a little shite sometimes. You let him talk to you any kind of way. You have to put your foot down. He wouldn’t dare say it to my face and he shouldn’t have the balls to say it to yours.”

She pouted. “I can’t be mad at him. He’s terrible upset about all of this.”

“There you go! Excusing what he does again! I tell him one thing and you’ll tell him another while handing him a lollipop.”

“I just don’t want him to hate me.”

“He loves you. He worships the ground you walk on. That’s why he’s upset about it and understandably so. However, he’s still a child and you are the adult.”

“What if he needs something—“

He glared at her and she stopped. “Astoria.”

“Alright fine,” she said, crossing her arms, then grinned at him wickedly. “So have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Sucked Harry Potter’s cock,” she murmured. He rolled his eyes, standing up from the table.

“I apologize for assuming that you were the adult.”

“We’re talking about it, right? At least we’re going that? Come on, love, sit down. I’m just teasing you.”

“It’s not funny. This is completely fucked,” he said in annoyance, sitting back down and pushing his plate away.  She moved closely to him.

“I know. I started this mess. I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry,” she said softly, putting her head in her hands. He got up from his chair and kneeled in front of her, grabbing her hands and kissing them. She looked up, tears in her eyes as she looked at him.

“It’s not impossible. We’ll work through this and Potter’s penis will be a distant memory,” he said softly, making her laugh through her crying.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to handle this?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He really didn’t. Especially since he’d finally realized how he felt about Harry.

“Let’s work on trying to reconnect. When we’re sure Scorpius is safe as he can be at the death trap that is Hogwarts, we can go take that trip to France. That muggle food and wine tour that I told you I’d die before going on. I slept with Potter, so I think that’s close to qualifying as dying in some shape or form.”

She smiled. “Really? Are you sure? That means being around muggles for a prolonged period of time. I know you can only handle them in small dosages.”

“I’ll manage,” he said with a smirk, standing up and kissing her softly. She looked up at him smiling and there was something about her peaceful look that almost hurt. He couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. I love you, Astoria. You and Scorpius are life. No matter what, that’s how it’ll always be.”

“I love you too,” she said, kissing him again.

 

When he came in the distribution center, Blaise seemed to be in a bright mood. Things were nearly back to normal. No worry of the Ministry trying to suspend their major trades. Soon, they’d be “in the black”. It was the only muggle expression he truly appreciated. He eyed the new vat of his Frizz potion recipe suspiciously. The tinge was a little different. Something was added and probably at Blaise’s doing. He despised when Blaise added ingredients without his approval. He found it the equivalent to him taking a piss in his pumpkin juice. Blaise walked up, his smile faltering slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You added an ingredient. By the color, I’m guessing something of the newt variety.”

“Testing says it came out better.”

“How about I test your face in the fire under it?”

“Pansy is very happy with the result and considering how much her hair hates her, I’d say that’s a great testament.”

“Pansy, her hair and you can kiss my pale white arse,” Draco said with a sneer as they made their way up to the office. Blaise gave him that goddamn smirk he hated and he glared at him as he shut the door behind him.

“We’re starting to see profit again. Removing that literal prick from your arse really did wonders.”

Draco shrugged, sitting in the seat before Blaise’s desk. “Yeah, well…perhaps I should have realized that you weren’t competent enough to take care of things at my worst of times.”

“That’s the closest I’ll get to a genuine apology from you, I guess.”

“Pretty much.”

“So…you’re in love with Potter, right?”

He stared at him for a moment. How in the world did Blaise do that?  How did he know everything about him? Was he spying on him? Reading his mind? Maybe he was just a good observer of people. He imagined whoring about required a bit of finesse and knowing the “victim”. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Déjà vu rears its ugly head—“

“I’m not in love with Potter!”

“We both are very serious about our business. So when you blunder in the nearly catastrophic way you did, something is going on. It’s deeper. You studied him for long periods of time, you know?

“When the Weasleys were too busy with seeing other things and he was too lost in his own darkness to know it, I saw it. Not to mention, I know what it’s like to be in love with someone when it’s wrong.”

“What business is it of yours?”

“Business is important, but I guess there’s a part of me that’s afraid of losing my best friend,” he said with a frown, staring at his desk. Draco looked at him in surprise.

“That’s the first time you’ve said that aloud.”

“It is. So let’s not get sentimental about it. I’ve had enough of it during Christmas break. It was like a Hufflepuff Christmas Special.”

“Zabini, please stop watching the telly so much.”

“Can’t help it, Pansy’s become a little obsessed with it being stuck in the house,” he replied with a smile.

“How’s your son,” he asked seriously, relieved that the conversation was steering far away from Harry.

“He doesn’t hate me. At least I don’t think he does. I was considering adding another charm to the new journal I gave him to spy. Thanks for help with my older journal by the way.”

“Spying on him, huh? You may not like what you read. He is dating a Weasley. They have a way of corrupting people with the bubblegum values and their stupid red hair.”

“At least the girl is cute.”

“I’ve seen her. It figures Scorpius would be so enthralled with her.”

“Now how do you know that?”

“I eavesdropped on a conversation he and Jeremy were having in the infirmary during that whole Quidditch disaster.”

“That’s very interesting,” Blaise said with a laugh.

“I’m rooting for Jeremy. I absolutely refuse to be connected any further to the Weasleys. A distant blood relation is enough.”

“She’s alright. But she likes Quidditch too much.”

“How can someone like Quidditch too much? That’s like liking orgasms too much.”

Blaise groaned. “I forgot not to mention Quidditch around you.”

He stood up from the chair, sneering at him. “You are a sad excuse for a wizard if you can’t appreciate Quidditch.”

“I’d appreciate you leaving my office, you prick,” he said with a smirk. Draco intended on doing so, but stopped and turned around.

“I’m feeling a little weird lately. Aside from all the other stuff happening.”

Blaise’s good humored expression dropped. “You too?”

“Yeah, like some sort of bubble is going to burst. I haven’t felt like this since I was a kid. ”

“It’s just this whole hell demon, dangerous potions, and possible eradication of wizards—thing that’s got us bothered. Our sons and Pansy almost getting killed. I think that’s what got us on the edge. We’re going to catch him and stop it all before it happens. I can feel that too.”

“I don’t think you fully believe that, Blaise.”

He sighed deeply, shrugging. “I’m trying to get there.”

He left the office, pausing a moment to stare at the production lines where the potions were being bottled. They had all of this. It flourished. He hoped that the bloody Gryffindor trio would be able to find out what was happening. Everything would shatter if they didn’t figure out in time. Somehow, he could feel it closer than he should have.


	18. Dangerous Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy looks forward to the future, but gets a rude surprise doing research at the Ministry

Doing all the research was starting to work on Pansy’s nerves. It was mostly because she didn’t feel like they were getting any further than they had and they were typically sitting ducks. She also worried about Jeremy’s return to Hogwarts. He’d come to the Ministry with Ron and Harry to greet her before he went back to the Burrow to ready for school. He’d also asked for money that she reluctantly gave him, because they’d always go shopping for his extra supplies in Diagon Alley. He was going to spend the time with his new sweetheart and her family.

Pansy was admittedly jealous. He’d never gave this sort of attention to that stupid little girl he’d been dating from Ravenclaw. Knowing her son very well, she anticipated him falling for her soon and she wasn’t so excited about the prospect.

“And her love for Quidditch. It’s just weird.”

“Maybe it’s because neither one of us like it as much as she does.”

“Could you imagine Jeremy being like that? She could make him be like that.”

“I don’t think Jeremy is going to be some big Quidditch fanatic. He might learn a bit more about it to understand her love for it, but that’s it.”

“We should have a talk with him. We should have a talk with him about sex.”

“How are you so sure that he hasn’t had it yet,” Blaise said with a smirk. They were at that sleazy bar that she’d heard was a constant hang out of the Potters and the Weasleys. Why Blaise had taken her there she wasn’t quite sure. His sense of humor had always been a little twisted, so she attributed it to that. She looked at him angrily.

“With Weasley!?”

“I don’t think so. I think maybe with his last girlfriend.”

“That’s even worse. Jeremy was kissing her on the platform last year and I wanted to punch her in the face. That girl looks like she gives it to the world.”

Blaise gave her a bemused look. “I don’t understand people and their attitude about sex. It’s just sex.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

“Really, it has a lot of functions; biological and recreational. The recreational part is the best. What’s so wrong about someone having sexual fun if they aren’t hurting one and they’re safe?”

“You used to be the biggest snob. I miss that snob,” she said with a small smile. He returned it.

“No you don’t. Liar.”

It disturbed her that her little boy would be having sex at such an age. Of course, she was being a hypocrite. She’d given it up to Draco in their fifth year. Umbridge had never suspected the things they were doing while she was putting unneeded harsh punishments to other students. It gave them a lot of time to explore each other.

If she had realized Blaise liked her, she would have skipped all the nonsense with Draco and just went on with him. Then maybe her parents would have eventually just accepted Blaise. Or maybe they never would have. Considering the possible obstacles they’d gone through to hide the possibility of her and Blaise, she doubted they would have anyway. They were sticklers about race in every sense of the way. Her father could have been lenient; her mother not so much.

Why Henry Buxton? Her parents were never associated with him. They’d welcomed him to the family so freely. However, the more she thought back to the day, she remembered trying to look into her father’s eyes and him not being able to do so. Her mother, like her, had been more proficient at deceit. She made her way to Hermione’s office. She had had to stop helping them with the research when the Minister started to ask questions. Pansy’s excuse for being there was already set.

“Come in.”

“Hello Hermione.”

She lifted her head, giving her a smile. “You finally said it. And look at that, you didn’t catch on fire.”

“It’s amazing isn’t it? We despised each other. Now we’re pleasant towards each other. I wouldn’t say we’re friends. Probably never will be.”

“I think there’s too much bad blood for a friendship to be there. However, you never know. Another twenty years and we might resign to it.”

She gave her a look. “Oh yes, Jeremy and your niece.”

“It horrified you too, didn’t it?”

“I wasn’t happy. However, she’s a nice girl. At least pretty enough for him.”

“I see you’re aligning yourself with Blaise’s qualifications.”

She laughed. “It seems like I am. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if there was a chance that I could have a look at my marriage license.”

“It’s the fiftieth floor. Here, take my key. Make sure not to lose it or not look anywhere you shouldn’t. The system has been reorganized to be set up the way the book pages were in Harry’s office. Only in neater rows of course,” she said with a strange expression, putting it in her hand. Pansy felt a weird spark from her and stared at Hermione for a moment before giving her a reluctant smile and heading out.

She made her way to it, exchanging pleasantries with people she eventually met at the Ministry with her exploring around. She had to do it. Being in a room for a prolonged period of time with Harry and Ron could be torture after a while. They weren’t bad as she had thought for so long, but their personalities weighed thin on her own. So she took breaks by looking in the directory and visiting all sorts of departments. She found herself surprisingly delighted by the Office for Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. The Aurors in that department were always fighting with objects. Their distress was her entertainment. She’d been banned from that department when she laughed hysterically at one person being hung upside by his trousers. That was most definitely a sad day.

She wasn’t surprised by the massive size of the records hall. There were rows of filing cabinets and there was an illumination charm, but it was still quite dim. She sighed deeply as she made her way through, heading for the section that stated “Bu”. She was quite far away, near the “Ma’s” when she spotted Astoria Malfoy. She stood there, looking through the filing cabinet and cursing under her breath.

“Do you need help,” she asked. Astoria jumped and old certificates went flying everywhere.

“Shite Pansy, I thought I was the only one in here.”

“Sorry. I’ve been on quite the sadistic spree lately. It’s gotten me banned from one department.”

“I’m going to guess it’s a department where people are in pain,” Astoria replied with a smirk. Pansy shrugged and bent down to help her pick up the mess.

“So, what are you doing here and how did you get in here? I thought you needed a key.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I came across Harry and he handed it over.”

“That was very nice of him,” she replied slowly. Astoria glared at her.

“It was quick. Very quick. We were in front a bunch of people on the elevator and I asked him the floor.”

“Why are you looking for your marriage certificate?”

“I got an owl today that said there was a misfiling in the older section and due to it, that our marriage certificate could be invalidated. So I have to find it and then go talk to those idiot clerks on the main floor.”

“The Ministry incompetent. Who would have thought? Let me help you look.”

It took them a while before they reached Malfoy. There was a marriage certificate for quite a bit of the family. The certificates only dated back five hundred years. Before that, there were just agreements between families and no paper trails. How that would have been nice, she thought. She stopped at Draco’s mother and father’s name. It sort of hurt to see their marriage certificate knowing what happened to them. While she knew they were never big fans of hers, she’d always admired how much they loved each other.

 

She wondered if she married Blaise if it could ever be like that. Would it, could it be the type of love that was powerful that it lasted even after one or both of them died? She couldn’t imagine herself dying of a broken heart. If that had been possible, it would have happened when Blaise ended the affair. She frowned.

“Your marriage certificate isn’t here.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. Maybe it’s in the newer section. Are you looking for yours too? If mine is there, yours is too.”

As Hermione had said, the section was floating and set up in the air. Pansy still hadn’t gotten her wand back. She’d loved her ivy wand. When she’d found out the core was unicorn hairs she’d been absolutely delighted. Henry knew she loved that wand and despised it himself because Ollivander had made it. It was probably why he took it or hid it. She kicked herself for being so careless with it. She glanced at Astoria.

“I don’t have my wand. Just say reveal. Try mine first, since I gave you the tip.”

She smiled, shaking her head as she waved it. “Reveal Henry Buxton and Pansy Parkinson”

Pansy glanced around until she saw it, floating towards them. It landed in Astoria’s hand and she handed it to her. She stared at it incredulously. It’d been registered a week before she’d even woke up in Henry’s bed. However, there were no signatures from her parents who, as purebloods, could have signed her off to him as an arranged marriage agreement. There was only Henry’s signature, her falsified one and—

“Hermione Weasley,” she said tightly. It made no sense whatsoever. The dates didn’t make sense. Was Hermione Weasley even in that powerful of a position to sign a marriage certificate?

“Reveal Draco Malfoy and Astoria Malfoy. Pansy…what’s wrong? Did you say Hermione Weasley?”

It couldn’t be. Henry hated muggleborns. He despised them. He had made a comment about the house elves; about a law she had been pushing to past. She’d assumed he read it in the paper. However, he hardly knew Hermione. She felt a headache forming.

No, it couldn’t be. There was something else going on. There was something else going on. Someone had to be trying to frame her for something. Hermione was about to become the scapegoat for something. She didn’t understand, however, what it had to do with her marriage certificate being forged.  

“That’s weird. The certificate is valid for another two years.”

“What,” Pansy said absently, looking at her blankly.

“They sent me the owl to come take care of it right away. Looks like they made a mistake,” Astoria said with a frown. Pansy’s eyes widened and she grabbed Astoria by her robes.

“Astoria, we have to go. We have to go right now,” Pansy said frantically, pulling her towards the exit.

“What are you talking about?”

Before Pansy could say, both of them stared towards each illumination charm shutting off one by one, coming from the exit towards them. They both backed away slowly as it started to speed up and turned heel, running fast. The room was gigantic. There were too many filing cabinets and nowhere to hide. Astoria stopped suddenly, grabbing Pansy herself and placing her behind her. Pansy screamed when she saw the spell come towards them.

“Protego,” Astoria yelled, shielding them and sending who had sent the curse towards them reeling back several feet.

“Potter had to help you get better at that one.”

“Shut up, Pansy! Now is not the time! Lumos!”

She followed Astoria as they ran for what seemed like a long way. The room must have been the size of the Ministry. It was just their luck. They finally ended up bumping into some sort of wall. She pressed herself against it, shifting near Astoria who grabbed her hand.

“Pansy,” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been set up.”

“Henry?”

“No… I can’t believe Weasley was right,” she said with a disbelieving laugh.

“Who do you think it is?”

“All signs point to Hermione but—RUN!”

They both scrambled as a voice yelled “CONFRINGO”. Pansy barely missed the blast and was fortunate she wasn’t wearing robes. She looked for Astoria. She could only hear her screaming in pain. Pansy grabbed the wand that had been dropped by Astoria and saw the person coming towards them. She cast the only charm she could think of and they fell down, hopefully unconscious.

“Lumos,” she murmured. She kneeled in front of the body. There was Henry. Someone had let him in the Ministry. There were only several ways to get into the Ministry. Henry wouldn’t have come through publicly. He couldn’t have used the secret entrances as the lobby had been charmed to alert officials of any wizards or witches that had warrants.

It left the Floo network. He could have gone through if someone from the Ministry had lifted the block. She turned towards Astoria, who was still screaming. She ran up to her, shushing her and gasping in horror. One fourth of her face was severely burned. There were no spells to heal for that one. They’d have to get out of the room and get her a potion. Suddenly, she heard other footsteps.

“Astoria, I know you’re in a lot of pain. But we have to move. Can you move?”

“Yes,” she said softly, still crying. They got up from the floor and started to run towards the exit in desperation. There was no other choice. She handed Astoria her wand.

“No way out,” a voice said aloud. “Future doesn’t look too bright, ladies.”

Who was that? They sounded familiar. They tried to pick up their pace while Pansy tried to think. All of it was supposedly about the Reveal Movement. The person behind her marriage certificate being forged was possibly the person who played a big part in it. Were they the queen or bishop? What the fuck did that mean again?  Astoria continued to hiss in pain.

“Who is that,” Astoria asked as the person started to laugh. It was someone she knew. She just couldn’t place the voice.

“It’s someone who knows that you were having an affair with Harry Potter.”

“How many people know that,” she asked in horror.

“A couple of Weasleys might know. Maybe someone heard you in the office. It could be anyone!”

“Do you know how crazy that sounds—it hurts so bad,” she said, giving another hiss of pain.

“You’re going to learn what our happy group does to those they deem whores,” the voice said. It was coming closer, but they were almost to the exit. She was beginning to feel tired and her feet were dragging. She couldn’t keep it up much longer and she doubted Astoria would be able to either. They were starting to slow down as the person came closer. All of the illumination was gone now and they were in the dark.

“Expelliarmus!”

Shite, Pansy thought as it flew from Astoria’s hand. She was beginning to pass out and she had to support her. How was she taller yet so light? It didn’t matter. She was thankful for it. She supported her as they both found the exit. Pansy almost cried in relief as they went through. Her eyes widened when she saw the person that was chasing after them. They stood at the doorway, sneering down at her and Astoria.

“Get away from us.”

“I don’t think so. Surprised? Shocked? Dismayed?”

“Why,” she asked as they both fell to the floor. “HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP US!”

“It’s pretty funny when you think about it. Hermione is going to take the total blame. Everyone is going to believe it’s her. A muggleborn as a high official wanting to expose the wizarding world. She’s been acting a little odd lately, you see. Like something is bothering her. All it’ll take is one person to point it out before it comes to light.  It’ll be complete pandemonium.”

“You know,” Pansy said with a giggle as she crawled to the elevator, trying so hard to drag Astoria with her. She was failing her. “I always thought you were an idiot. I never figured you to be evil, though. That’s a surprise. Either way, the combination is a recipe for disaster. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but when Potter finds out you’re behind this, he will ruin you.”

“I wouldn’t call it necessarily evil. There’s a muggle term for what you are—can’t quite remember it.  However, with your transition to the next life, you’re helping a very beneficial movement get along.”

“So this is how you do? Leading the innocent to slaughter—you’re sick,” she replied with a cough, her eyes fluttering. She was so tired.  

“Innocent?  That’s amusing.”

She shook her head weakly. “We’re innocent in the grand scheme of things. Our blood is going to be on your hands. Your existence is going to crumble from that permanent stain.”

They looked at her with a bit of regret in their eyes and Pansy was glad for that. She hoped they had nightmares about her and Astoria. “I promised a couple of friends they could do anything they wanted to you to get information. Be cooperative and you might survive. Make sure not to scream though. It just encourages them.”

Pansy lied down on the floor next to Astoria. She was breathing slowly, staring at her as tears were flowing down her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. She wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of crying. She managed to put her finger to Astoria’s lips, smiling softly.

“Don’t scream.”


	19. Back to School Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy's discovery at his return to Hogwarts changes the lives of all involved forever

“I just don’t get why they have to use the Bludgers.”

“You wouldn’t,” Roxanne said with a laugh. Being in the cabin with all of them was kind of peculiar. He’d always been so used to riding alone during school. “Have you read the book yet?”

“Yes I get all of that, it’s just—“

“Be careful with your words, Jeremy. Did you forget that Bludgers are what I handle best? Without them, I wouldn’t be playing.”

“Say if there weren’t any Bludgers in Quidditch—“

James looked at him in amusement. “Jeremy, you are knocking at death’s door right now.”

He glanced at Roxanne, who was glaring at him angrily. “It’s a hypothetical question, Weasley!”

“Alright, so let’s say banana splits didn’t have bananas, Chocolate frogs were stationary, and wands didn’t shoot magic.”

He shrugged. “They wouldn’t be what they were.”

“Exactly, get the picture?”

“I get that if I don’t want to be your ex-boyfriend, I should never question the presence of Bludgers in Quidditch again.”

“See? You’re catching on,” she said with a smirk, ruffling his hair. He stuck his tongue out at her, fixing his hair, taking out his iPod and putting it on. From what they were told, the train had had some heavy provisions to it to ensure that no one would get attacked; including an unplottable cloak that Jeremy believed should have been done a lot time ago. Being part of the wizarding in general was incredibly dangerous. Even if there’d been no one trying to kill him specifically, there was always something out there that was going to eat, maim, or kill some poor unsuspecting wizard or witch.  

Lily came in the cabin, looking clammy and upset. They stared at her until she started to cry, handing the Daily Prophet to Albus. She sat next to Rose, who held her as she sobbed into her shoulder. He sat back in his seat once he read it, staring blankly. James snatched it from him. “What the hell?”

“What is it,” Roxanne asked, leaning over to get a better look at it and looking at Jeremy with a grim expression. “Don’t let it upset you, Lily. We have established Rita Skeeter is a lying bitch.”

“What does it say?”

“Our father! He’s having an affair with Malfoy’s mum!  How could he do something like that?”

“Lily—“

“Don’t say it’s not true! He’s been acting weird lately. Something’s been eating him up. There’s pictures further in the back of them sneaking into the same hotel together.”

Jeremy sighed deeply. It would have been a matter of time before someone found out. It was possible that anyone could have heard what had gone on in the Infirmary that day. He was sure Roxanne had heard and wondered if she mentioned it to someone. He doubted it. If she’d told anyone, it wouldn’t be any of her cousins. Most of them weren’t very good at keeping secrets from what Roxanne told him.

“I—I know about it,” Jeremy replied reluctantly. James stared at him.

“You knew!? For how long?”

“There was an argument in the infirmary and Draco Malfoy just let it be known. It seemed like your father knew,” he motioned to Rose and Hugo.

Rose shook her head, looking at it herself. “I guess I could understand why you wouldn’t tell us.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it’s been over for months now. I think your father ended it.”

“What does it matter if he ended it? This is insane!”

“You don’t think he did it to mum, do you,” Lily whimpered, looking at James. He shook his head.

“Even in this damned ridiculous article they say it happened after they divorced. Maybe it was seeing her with Gary that pushed him over the edge.”

“Roxanne, did you know about it,” Albus asked in annoyance. He looked as if he were getting ready to hurl. She shrugged.

“I did. I didn’t tell anyone. I’m just as surprised as you that it ended up in the paper.”

“These pictures look about a year old,” James muttered. “He’d cut his hair earlier this year. It’s all longish and shaggy now.”

“Who else did you see at the infirmary?”

“Besides Anthony’s father? You don’t think he’d do it, do you?”

“Anything is possible. I don’t put anything past anyone.”

She seemed a bit offended that he’d make the suggestion and he felt himself feeling a little pissed off himself. Why was it that Gryffindors believed only other houses could have people that were deceitful? Personality traits or common habits were one thing. Being faced with life and being pushed to the brink of something could force anyone to do something out of character. He’d known that first hand. He stood up from the seat. “Looks like you still have feelings for Anthony Thomas.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find an empty cabin.”

“Are you seriously doing this? You’re going to get jealous over Anthony Thomas?”

“Maybe I’m just annoyed that you think Gryffindors and former Gryffindors alike aren’t capable of doing anything wrong. I guess I wouldn’t understand though, being a Slytherin.”

She crossed her legs and her arms. “Do what you want, Buxton.”

Case in point, Ms. Roxanne Weasley decides to call him by the surname he’d grown to hate. She looked at him regretfully afterwards. He looked at her coldly before slamming the cabin door behind him. He liked their family. And he thought that it was possible that he was falling for her.

However, at the end of it all, he was a Slytherin. He was also the son of a Slytherin and a man he had pegged the wrong way due to his own bitterness towards him. If Roxanne couldn’t understand that morality wasn’t as black and white as she assumed, they were going to have severe issues in the long run.

It was James who followed him out. “We’re just a little on edge, finding this out. You understand that, right?”

“I know. That’s why I’m just going to leave you all to talk about it. It’s a family issue.”

James shrugged. “You may be family in the future. Always nice to get practice with the family drama,” he replied with a crooked grin.

“I’ll catch a carriage with you when the train gets to the station.”

“Alright. See you later, mate.”

He gave him a small smile before walking along the aisles of the train. The Daily Prophet was everywhere. When he’d pass cabins, he wouldn’t see heads. In place of the heads were papers. Behind the papers was laughter. He paused in front of the cabin Scorpius usually sat at it. He was missing and more than likely hiding from his “friends”, who were laughing hysterically.

“His mum always seemed a bit loose. I never figured her for a blood traitor.”

Josiah Nott didn’t seem quite as interested in the conversation. In fact, he looked a bit upset as he listened to the laughter around them. He turned to look towards the window where Jeremy was watching, reaching over to pull down the shade. After a couple of more minutes, he came across the cabin Scorpius with in. He hung his head. Should he really even try to comfort him? He doubted it would work. He knocked on the cabin.

“Fuck off and leave me alone.”

“It’s just me, Malfoy.”

“That’s even worse, but I’ll adjust the statement: Fuck off and die, Zabini.”

Well that was fantastic. How long had he known? “I caught my mother and him, once.”

Scorpius stared at the seat across from him before rolling his eyes and opening the cabin door. “You caught Harry Potter and your mother together?”

“No,” Jeremy replied with a snort. “I caught her and my real father before I knew he was my real father.”

Scorpius stepped aside and he entered the cabin. It was the same cabin he’d been in when he’d been attacked by the werewolf. They might have repaired the window, but the notches he noticed when he entered it were still there on the seats. If they were attacked again in that cabin, he wouldn’t be saving Scorpius’ life. He’d be throwing him at the werewolf, because at that point he didn’t know if he could take it anymore.

“You said you caught them. Doing what?”

“My mother was giving him head.”

“Ew.”

“Ew was amongst the hundreds of things that crossed my mind when I saw it.”

“Did you—did you see everything?”

“What do you mean everything? You mean did I have a pornographic show of my mother taking a penis in her mouth? No,” he snapped in disgust. “I just saw the back of her head.”

“Oh.”

He gave him a sympathetic glance. Everyone assumed his mum was having an affair with Blaise. After so many years, they had gotten careless with how they held their affair. However, when the Daily Prophet started to keep an eye on him, they really hadn’t cared nor mentioned it. He had been thankful for that. They probably wouldn’t have anyway. The whole Harry Potter thing was a different situation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to talk about,” Scorpius said with a sneer.

“Just try it. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Ugh—you know, you’ve been hanging around Gryffindors too much. Either that or Hufflepuffs.”

“Alright, I offered.”

He glanced out the window. There was the forest he’d been running in. It was strange the way it happened. He wouldn’t have remembered it if the Daily Prophet hadn’t had pictures of it in the main article they’d written about him. There was a knock on the cabin and he could see Roxanne peeking in. She showed up at the worse possible moment. Scorpius glared at him before opening the cabin.

“Come in if you’re going to come in Weasley.”

She gave Scorpius a small smile before sitting next to Jeremy. She turned to him. “I’m sorry. I was being a bitch.”

“It’s okay. You’re just a Gryffindor. You can’t be perfect,” he replied with a grin. She giggled.

“I deserve that,” she said and turned to look at Scorpius. “I’m sorry. About everything that’s happening.”

“Really? Sure you’re not laughing it up along with everyone else?”

“Harry is my uncle, Malfoy. Why would I find it funny? Even if he wasn’t, I still wouldn’t find it funny. There’s no punch line and the lead in is terrible.”

“Didn’t she write an article accusing your mum of having an affair?”

“Yes,” she said, still looking at Scorpius. “So trust me, I know how it feels.”

“But yours didn’t happen. And at least with Jeremy here, the man his mother had an affair with turned out to be his father anyway. My mother cheated on my father with the man he hates. And according to this bloody article, also the man that nearly had his business shut down. What’s worse is—,” he sighed deeply, leaning back with a sour expression.

“I said something deplorable to her. I’ve been grounded, my accounts been frozen, and more than likely my social life is finished anyway. After what I said, though, I think I kind of deserve it. I’m thinking about what this is doing to me, but I haven’t even thought about how humiliated my mother and father are.”

“That’s—I’m just kind of surprised that you’re able to take other people’s feelings into consideration.”

He smirked. “I’m at my weakest here, Weasley. Thanks for pointing that out.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in mock protest. “That was incredibly rude.”

“And you said there was nothing to talk about. See Malfoy? Talking about your feelings is good,” Jeremy replied with a grin, nodding robotically. Scorpius shook his head, biting the smile that was forming on his face.

“Definitely been hanging around the Weasleys and Potters too much,” he said, rolling his eyes.

The rest of the train ride was thankfully uneventful. He sat close to Roxanne and she lazily held his hand, leaning on his shoulder as they looked out the window. Scorpius was lost in his own thoughts, but every once in a while he’d look at their hands and shift uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t going to stop affection towards her just to help Scorpius’ ego; no matter what he was going through.

 He wasn’t purposely being cruel. However, he wanted it to be known that she was his. After Scorpius had already had his hands all over a former girlfriend, he still couldn’t trust him. It didn’t matter that Roxanne was adamant that she wouldn’t give him the time of day.

He kept to his promise that he’d ride the carriage with the family as Scorpius had to unfortunately share the carriage with other Slytherins. He wasn’t envious. He was going to catch a lot of hell for that article. He didn’t think he and Scorpius would ever be friends. However, seeing as their fathers were business partners and friends, the least he could do was look at for him when he could. He wrinkled his nose, causing Roxanne to giggle.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m going to have to be nice to Malfoy.”

James held his chest mockingly. “Oh, the horror! Please, don’t bring him along to the Gryffindor Tower. He might end up shagging Rose or something.”

Rose stared at him in horror. “James!”

“Or maybe Albus. It’d be a family event.”

“I can’t believe you’re making a joke of this. Our father’s been shagging a Malfoy and you’re making jokes about me taking it from Scorpius!”

“Taking it? I didn’t say you’d be taking it. You just said it. Nice to discover my brother is a bottom.”

Albus started to turn red. “Hate. You.”

“It could be worse. It could be Draco Malfoy.”

“That would never happen,” Lily said incredulously. “Could you imagine? I think I’d die.”

 

He decided he was going to sit at this table and make sure Scorpius didn’t catch any more trouble. He saw him at the table sitting alone; looking completely furious. He’d noticed that Larry Lockman was holding his nose when he came out the carriage, glaring at the back of Scorpius’ head as he stormed off into the school. He walked up to him, sitting beside him hesitantly.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, but you might need someone in case there’s some kind of ambush.”

“This is absolutely—,” Scorpius stopped as his eyes went up. Jeremy followed his gaze. There were two large red silk fabrics suspended in the air above the Slytherin table. They scrambled from it as the other Slytherins did. They hadn’t been there before. They must have been charmed to be revealed when someone sat at the table. On the cloaks, their last names glowed. His real last name glowed.

He didn’t know why Scorpius reached for the cloth but he did as the teachers started to run up to their section. He grabbed and fought with Scorpius to not pull it down, but his hand had clutched on to it and it was too late. It came down and there was Astoria Malfoy.  There was hysterically screaming from the students behind them as Scorpius stared in horror as his mother. There was no clothing. She was stripped it and her hair. Through all the dried blood he was shocked that he could barely see her facial features, but it was her. Her body had been mutilated. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, grabbing the cloth that was for him and yanking it down as well.

She still had her hair at least, he thought as he stared at her. He felt numb. It had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t have been real. Her face was untouched, but she’d been gutted and her innards were handing loosely. Both of them had carvings in their chests: whore and blood traitor. He heard Scorpius make a small noise and he grabbed him by the collar roughly.

“Don’t do it! Don’t you fucking cry, Scorpius! Do you hear me,” he whispered sharply. Scorpius fought from him but he tightened his grip.

“She’s—“

“We need to take them down and cover them! Give them that little bit of dignity instead of blubbering. You can do it later, but not here! Not here where they are people watching; people that would love to see both of us breakdown. Don’t let them see!”

Scorpius stared at him before closing his eyes and nodding. Students had already started to scramble from the Great Hall. It was a nightmare alright, but it was a nightmarish reality. He could hear dry heaving, hysterically crying, and he could smell vomit and piss starting to stink up the air. All he cared about was covering her up. Both of them climbed up on top of the table.

For all they knew, their bodies could be hexed to do something to them. He couldn’t care about that. He looked away as he touched her foot and she fell. He managed to catch her, holding her in his arms and sitting on top of the table.  He didn’t even look to see what Scorpius had done. He rocked her slowly, putting the silk cloth over her body.

“You meant a lot to me,” he said softly, touching her hair. “You loved me when no one else did. I’ll never forget that mum. That’s how I’m going to remember you. That’s how I’ll always remember you.”

He lifted his eyes and there was Roxanne, standing there with her wand. She looked as if she wanted to cry as well. However, she didn’t. She’d been waiting for something to happen and ready in case it had. She just stared at him and waited. He felt his chest begin to ache. He knew it then. He was in love with her. And she was in danger. They’d come for her next if they knew how he truly felt.

The Headmaster came up to them, putting his hand on his shoulder as his mother remained in his arms. “Jeremy, I need you to put her down on the ground.”

“No.”

“They need to look at her. To see what happened. “

He looked back down at his mother. Her lips were pressed firmly together. They’d tried to make her scream. They tried to break her before she died. However, she more than likely refused. He wanted to make them scream. He kissed her on the forehead before climbing down from the table, placing her on the ground. He covered her face reluctantly. It’d been the only part of her that hadn’t been mutilated.

He looked over at Scorpius, who sat door just staring at the covered corpse of his mother blankly. He still couldn’t believe it. They weren’t even safe at Hogwarts. They weren’t safe at all. The Headmaster had his hand on his shoulder again.

“I’m going to go for a walk, sir. Can I do that?”

Before he could answer Roxanne stepped forward. “I can accompany him. We won’t leave Hogwarts.”

“What would it matter if we left Hogwarts anyway,” Scorpius said angrily, standing up. “Someone got past everything! We aren’t safe here! Probably aren’t safe anywhere now.”

He stormed off, bumping angrily into her as he left the Great Hall. Jeremy could still hear hysterical screaming from students in the hallway. They were rightfully scared. He was scared too. He put his hand to his forehead and noticed he’d been sweating profusely. He said nothing as he walked slowly out of the Great Hall.

“Jeremy—,“ James said softly, his face pale and his body trembling.

“Not now, James,” Roxanne snapped as she followed close behind.  He couldn’t be around anyone but Roxanne at that moment. He walked for quite a while, trying not to think about anything as he passed students that had gone bonkers upon seeing mutilated corpses. He couldn’t feel bad for them. In fact, he wanted to curse any one of them at that moment. It was his mother he’d seen.

He found a classroom that wasn’t in use and walked in. She closed the door behind him and he let out a loud scream of anguish. He found anything he could to break. Jars went smashing into the wall. Books were torn at. Tables he thought were heavy he easily tipped over and nearly hit Roxanne. She didn’t make a sound, only dodged out of the way. He didn’t know how long he’d gone on his tantrum until he was standing there and she grabbed his hand, standing in front of him. She hugged him tightly.

“Don't hold back. Don't feel like you have to hold back,” she whispered. He cried then, holding onto her and sobbing hysterically. She sighed as he started to fall down to the floor and she followed him, rocking him slowly as she held him and he continued. His own crying hurt his own ears, but he couldn’t help it. She was gone. She’d never come back. They never sit at the table and eat chocolate ice cream. He’d never see that smile that he gotten so happy to see the last time he saw her. He should have stayed with her.

“This is my fault,” he cried out angrily. She put her hand to his head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have come to the Burrow. I should have stayed with her.”

She pulled away from him, grabbing his face. “Then what, Jeremy? They would have killed you too.”

“I don’t care!”

“Your mother wouldn’t have wanted it! Don’t say that! I care!”

He touched her face. He’d seen what they did to Draco’s mother. They’d mutilated her worse. She’d gotten burned, but they also carved it up. They probably raped her; raped both of them. He looked at her in horror. They’d do it to Roxanne. “We can’t be together.”

“No, don’t do this,” she started to sob.

“They’ll hurt you! They’ll hurt you to hurt me before they kill me! You saw what they did to her. They’ll do the same to you!”

“Are you mad?! I’m safe! Please, Jeremy—you need me. I want to be there for you—“

“I love you,” he said softly. She stopped sobbing, staring at him; stunned.

“Jeremy—“

“We need to break up.”

“No, no please—I love you too—please Jeremy I love you—“

“Because I love you, I can’t be with you. You have to understand that. If they killed you, I’d completely lose it. I’d give up. And I need you to be alive.”

“You’ll be safe with our family. You can stay—“

“I can’t. I won’t. I’m leaving Hogwarts. I’m leaving Hogwarts with Scorpius and I’m going to find out who did this to our mothers.”

She punched him in the face then, standing up. “You fucking idiot! You stupid, stupid bastard!”

That had made him stop crying. He was holding his nose as she glared down at him before crying again. He felt blood starting to flow from it and he stood up, wiping it with his shirt. He tried to focus and calm down before he healed his own nose, wincing as he went back in place. “I’m kind of glad you stopped me from crying. A slap would have been a little nicer, though.”

“You aren’t going without me!”

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not,” she snapped, grabbing him. “Don’t do this!”

He pulled her to him and he kissed her passionately. It occurred to him it might have been the last time. The last time he’d smell her and be able to hold her this close. Before he could stop himself, they were on top of the massive mess he made. Her school skirt was hiked up, her panties at her knees, and he felt so wrong for having an erection during a time like that.

He had wanted sex with her to be special. However, it wasn’t. It was awkward and he knew she was in pain when he entered her. While it felt good eventually, he kept seeing flashes of his mother and Astoria Malfoy. There would be no climax for either of them. Instead, he pulled out as he started to deflate and Roxanne lied there staring at him before starting to cry hysterically. He pulled away reluctantly before waving his wand quickly and casting. “Petrificus Totalus!”

He held on to her as she made paralyzed screams of anger. She was undeniably furious. Hopefully she’d stay that way and wouldn’t come looking for him. He glanced back and saw Scorpius standing there with two brooms. He had watched them. The look on his face revealed he watched them. He should have been angry and maybe even attacked him at that point, but he didn’t have the energy.  

They had no plans. They hadn’t even talked. However, he knew he was going to do it. And the one thing they had in common was that they loved their mothers. Scorpius looked at her and then away as Jeremy started to fix her clothing. “You had to do it. Weasleys are stubborn. Although, Stupefy would have been more merciful.”

“Oh shut up,” he snapped, picking her up and carrying her in his arms. “We need to get her to the infirmary before the Aurors get here and head out.”

They made their way quickly to down the halls when they nearly ran into Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Jeremy cursed under his breath as they hid around the corner. He knew even if he had lost his mother, they weren’t going to react very greatly to him and Scorpius carrying around a paralyzed Roxanne. Ron was trying to talk his partner out of going to the Great Hall.

“You can’t go in there, yet.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Harry—“

He could hear the scuffle between him and Ron before there was a grunt in pain. There were frantic footsteps, silence and then… an almost identical scream of anguish he’d heard from himself. Both he and Scorpius closed their eyes, wincing. It was even more unsettling from an adult.

“LET ME GO! GET AWAY FROM ME RON! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“HARRY PLEASE,” a feminine voice cried out.

“Oh fuck,” Harry cried out hysterically.

“We need to go. Place her here, propped up against the wall. They’ll find her.”

She looked at him, tears in her eyes and she started to sob, muffled by her paralyzed lips. “I love you. I love you so much. Don’t forget me,” he replied, kissing her on the lips as her sobbing got louder. He glanced at Scorpius, who looked away as they ran off towards the dungeons. None of the other students had made it there after the dinner fiasco yet. The teachers had more than likely herded them outside until they were sure everything was safe inside. What a laugh. As Scorpius had said, no one was safe.

“Grab whatever potions you think we can use and any small, light belongings you think we could bring with us.”

He expected Scorpius to bark at him about giving orders, but he only nodded and ran off towards the Potions class. He only hoped Scorpius knew how to break in. He’d be on his own. He rummaged and stuck the gift that Roxanne had given him first in the bag. He filled it with other small mementos including a picture of his mother from when she was in school. He stared at it momentarily and then at the books.

He’d have to choose one. He couldn’t take Quidditch Through the Ages; wouldn’t be useful and would remind him too much of Roxy. There was the book his mother had given him on the complicated spells that would be helpful. Then he looked at the journals. He stood there for moment, torn about the decision he had to make. He wanted to take both. Maybe he could cast a shrinking charm on---

“What are you doing, Zabini?! Let’s go!”

Looking back quickly, he sighed deeply and took the journal, looking at the book longingly before running out the door. They made their way up, almost running into other students and barely missing them before they went near the groundskeeper’s shack. He climbed on the broom reluctantly. He wasn’t as good a flyer as Roxanne or Scorpius. He always got ill on a broom, no matter how hard he tried to think of other things. He placed the bag over his shoulder as Scorpius carried his with the second one.

They lifted off and watched as the last group of students scrambled back inside. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to come back to Hogwarts. No, he thought bitterly. He’d never come back. Even if that meant he never had a chance as an Auror. He just didn’t care about that anymore. All he wanted was revenge for his mother.

“We might die.”

Scorpius glanced at him. “Do you care?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. You?”

“No.”

He swallowed back the bile that started to rise in disgust. “Let’s go then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to an unexpected tragedy, I didn't get to post chapters I wanted to post at the end/beginning of the year--I'm catching up at this moment. This is the end of this part of the series. Thank for anyone who took the time to read it and I hope you tune in for the continuation of it. Have a good new year. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments, suggestions, or death threats below! Until next chapter!


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